Eleni's Missing Years

 
Chapter 8
 
Lucius Malfoy settled comfortably in the plush leather armchair and luxuriously stretched out his legs.

‘You have done well my son,’ he said, as Draco beamed proudly. ‘A true Slytherin. Now all I need is a solution to the problem.’

‘To be honest father, I am surprised that you find my story so interesting,’ said Draco.

‘All stories from Hogwarts interest me,’ said the senior Malfoy, a wicked grin licking the sides of his mouth.

‘But why this one father? You haven’t asked me once about Harry Potter.’
 
‘Potter at this time is not relevant,’ said Lucius. ‘The Dark Lord is not for the moment planning any new attack, he is more interested in dispelling the traitors. However this girl you speak about, Eleni Devon, she intrigues me. And you say she was having a little discussion with my good friend Severus?’

‘Yes father.’

‘Tomorrow you and I are going to take a visit to Knockturn Alley, to my good friend Mr Borgin. There are a few things I might need you to do when you return to Hogwarts.’

‘Tell me?’ asked Draco.

Lucius Malfoy laugh sounded like a hyena’s cry. ‘All in good time son, all in good time.’
 

* * * * *

 
Severus Snape sat in Professor Dumbledore’s office, sipping bitter black tea, considering the best way of broaching Eleni Devon’s memory or lack of it.

However Professor Dumbledore, as customary, smiled and pre-empted his younger colleague.
 
‘Something on your mind Severus?’

Snape scowled, annoyed at how easily Dumbledore read his mind.

‘Eleni Devon?’ asked Dumbledore. ‘Is that what you wish to discuss? I was meaning to inquire about her.’

‘Yes,’ said Snape, putting his tea down. ‘I wish to discuss Miss Devon too and if you permit me to speak, I’m not sure that our current course of action is the correct one.’

Dumbledore smiled. ‘If I recall, you have never believed that our course of action is correct. But Severus, speak, because I do want to hear you out.’
 
‘Thank you headmaster.’ Snape picked up his empty cup and ran his finger lightly around the rim. ‘As you know the dreamless sleep potion has undoubtedly worked well. It has succeeded in bringing her some equilibrium and two days ago I started her on the new potion and it appears to be working well.’

‘How exactly does the potion work?’ asked Dumbledore.

Snape cleared his throat. ‘It allows the dream to return but reduces its intensity, allows her to function. In muggle terms, it’s as if she is watching a movie but from a great distance.’

‘And you say that so far it is working well?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then dear Severus, what is your concern?’
 
‘The questions headmaster,’ said Snape. ‘She is certainly no fool. She’s guessed that we both know more than what we’re saying and has tried on several occasions to extract it out of me.’

‘It’s not as if we know everything,’ said Dumbledore. ‘What have you told her?’

‘Nothing. However she did ask me a troubling question. She wanted to know whether it was her fault her parent’s died. It was obvious, that it was weighing on her mind. I did assure her that in no way was she responsible.’

‘Did she believe you?’

‘I can’t be certain,’ said Snape.

‘But you and I both know that it wasn’t her fault,’ Dumbledore said gravely. ‘No matter what the Ministry thinks.’

‘Yes,’ said Snape, ‘but I can’t help wonder whether in light of the questions, it would be better if we just told her the truth and be done with it. A gradual approach only prolongs the pain.’
 
Dumbledore didn’t answer immediately but finished his tea and moved to the window and for a moment watched the heavy snowstorm outside.

‘I appreciate what you are saying,’ he eventually said, turning to face Snape, ‘and I understand how her questions must trouble you, however it is best that it’s done on her accord and in her own time. Her mind and body will only remember as much as she can handle. And Severus, with this potion of yours, the situation is now under some control. But I do need you to monitor her progress. Although from what I’ve observed, she has not surprisingly gravitated towards you. And despite what you might think, I detect you have a certain fondness for the girl.’
 
Snape’s lip curled at Dumbledore’s remark. He wasn’t fond of, only concerned for Eleni Devon. The last thing he wanted was a student gravitating towards him. It was no accident that he showed his students sarcasm, cruelty and gave penalties at the slightest infringements. He was their teacher of potions and nothing else.

‘And as for the questions,’ Dumbledore continued, eyeing Snape closely, ‘I have complete trust in you. I know that you will use your discretion.’
 

* * * * *

 
Eleni woke up early on Christmas morning and was shocked to see a small pile of presents at the end of her bed. Since she had been found on the orphanage steps, she had never received a Christmas present. In fact she had never really bothered to celebrate Christmas. Without a family to share it with, it was pointless.
 
At the orphanage, she’d usually go off on her own or spend the day reading, pretending that it was any other day. Acknowledging Christmas, only reminded her of what she didn’t have, which gave her a terrible sharp pain in her chest.
 
Yet when she saw the presents at the end of her bed, she moved swiftly towards them and quickly unwrapped everything. A tin of homemade sweets from Ron, a box of chocolate frogs from Harry, the popular book that everyone was reading from Hermione, “Attack of the killer trolls” and a green jumper from Mrs Weasley.

Eleni pressed the jumper to her chest while she read the note that came with it.
  
Dear Eleni

Ron has told me all about you and how you were unable to join us for Christmas. Perhaps if all goes well you can join us next year. The rest of the family would very much like to meet you.

With love
Mrs Weasley.
PS: Hope you like the jumper.
 
Eleni felt a tear in the corner of her eye. It was one of the nicest things anyone had done for her. She was astounded that Mrs Weasley had bothered to give her a Christmas present. It made her feel funny inside, as if she wanted to open the window and yell out to the sky or run outside and build a gigantic snowman.
 
Lunch was the stupendous affair that the others had told her about. They had in no way exaggerated about the amount of food or joviality. Eleni sat at one end of the long table with the other students that had remained behind and the professors sat at the other end.
 
And so far, the Christmas break hadn’t been too bad. It wasn’t fun knowing that she was studying instead of holidaying but Professor McGonagall had been gracious enough to include a little free time. Most of the professors weren’t working her too hard and weren’t striking her down with too much homework.
 
Well except for Professor Snape that was. As always he was the exception to the rule and treated their tutorials like a class, watching and evaluating any work she produced, making her re brew potions if he wasn’t entirely satisfied and never held back when giving her homework.

Still Eleni mused, as she watched him sour and morose at the other end of the table, despite working her hard he hadn’t once sneered or made a cutting comment. He had even managed to be helpful and once actually said, ‘good work,’ which had almost sent her reeling in shock.
 
The new potion so far hadn’t been too bad either. As Snape had explained, everything was lessened and some nights the dream was at such a distance that she barely remembered any of it in the morning.

Yet she couldn’t help being nervous each night and had trouble falling asleep, worrying about the terrible insights that might befall her.
 
After lunch Eleni wandered restlessly through the empty corridors unsure of what to do. She didn’t feel like reading, even though Hermione’s book looked inviting or of sitting in the Gryffindor common room. A walk outside was out of the question because of the sudden storm that had erupted late that morning, that was still raging ferociously.

Eleni sighed and almost collided into Snape, who had left the dining hall and was making his way back to the dungeons.
 
‘Miss Devon,’ he said, with a touch of irritation, ‘don’t you have anything better to do than wander around Hogwarts. You better be careful that Filch doesn’t catch you.’

Eleni shrugged. ‘I was actually working out what to do,’ she said.

‘You could spend the afternoon catching up with your potion’s homework,’ he said.

Eleni shrugged again.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I need another pair of hands this afternoon. So if you have nothing better planned, I suggest you follow me.’
 
Eleni smiled to herself. If you wanted to forget that it was Christmas, Snape was the perfect person to spend Christmas afternoon with.

‘All right,’ she said, ‘that sounds fine.’

‘Well then let’s not waste time.’

Eleni had to run to keep up. Festive days didn’t put him in a good mood.
 

* * * * *

 
‘Why hello Mr Malfoy,’ said Mr Borgin, his voice as slippery as a snake, ‘how surprising to see you on Christmas day.’

‘You know the Malfoy family doesn’t celebrate Christmas day,’ said Lucius Malfoy. ‘Such an insipid, mudblood day. But things will change Mr Borgin, mark my words. One of these days these festivities will be obliterated if you know what I mean but till then we must be patient and wait our turn.’

‘Of course,’ said the other man, an evil glitter playing in his eyes. ‘Patience is a virtue.’

Just then Draco Malfoy appeared from behind his father’s cloak.

‘Hello Mr Borgin,’ he said.

‘Nice to see you again Draco.’ Mr Borgin turned to the elder Malfoy. ‘So Mr Malfoy what can I do for you?’

‘You stock Polyjuice potion?’

‘Of course Mr Malfoy, in fact I prepared a fresh batch yesterday.’

‘Then I’ll have a bottle,’ snapped Lucius Malfoy.

‘Excuse me for a moment,’ said Mr Borgin. ‘I keep it at the back, away from prying eyes, if you catch my meaning.’
 
Lucius Malfoy tapped his foot in annoyance. He hated waiting, for anything, no matter how brief it was. When he wanted something, he expected results immediately.

‘Father,’ asked Draco, ‘is the Polyjuice potion for me.’

‘Obviously. It is rather complicated for me to make. It’s a pity that I have to purchase it here but I doubt my good friend Severus will concoct it for me, especially if he suspects what I plan for it.’

‘What is it that you want me to do?’ asked Draco, shivering with excitement.

‘Not now,’ said Lucius, as Mr Borgin returned with a bottle of yellow liquid.
 
‘The Polyjuice potion Mr Malfoy,’ he said triumphantly, ‘just as you requested.’

‘Thank you,’ said Malfoy, studying it before pocketing it.

‘Now you do know,’ said Borgin, ‘that you need to add a bit of whoever you want to change into.’

‘What do you take me for,’ growled Malfoy, ‘a fool? Of course I know.’

Borgin bowed his head contritely. ‘I am very sorry sir.’
 
Malfoy turned his ice blue eyes back towards him. ‘There is another potion that I want,’ he said.

‘Yes?’

‘I want a potion that recovers lost memory,’ said Malfoy, ‘but not only that, one that would bring it back magnified a hundred fold. Enough to make the user go insane.’ Lucius Malfoy chuckled. ‘Enough to put the user in St Muggles for the rest of their lives.’

Borgin shook his head. ‘Difficult sir, difficult. If you permit me saying this, Severus Snape would be the best one for this job.’

‘If I could use Severus Snape,’ Malfoy snapped angrily, ‘I would. Unfortunately I have no option but to use you. And if my memory serves me correctly, wasn’t it you that boasted at the last meeting about your potion making skills.’

‘To be sure, to be sure,’ Borgin said hastily, ‘but it’s something that might need time.’

‘How long?’ asked Malfoy. ‘Time is not something I have. It must be ready by the time Draco is due to return to school.’

‘A few days then.’

‘Excellent. Now the moment you have it, Apparate immediately to my home’

‘Of course sir.’

‘And one more thing Borgin,’ said Malfoy, ‘you better not let me down.’
 

* * * * *

 
‘I want you to begin by cutting up the frog skin,’ Snape said to Eleni, as he stirred a potion. ‘On an angle like I’ve taught you and I want the pieces even and cut finely.’
 
Eleni nodded as she looked at all the cauldrons Snape had going, most filled with a potion of some sort. An assortment of ingredients, arranged methodically and waiting to be brewed took up most of his desk.

‘I suggest you stop staring,’ he said, ‘and begin cutting.’

‘Yes of course,’ she said hastily.
 
That afternoon Eleni cut up frog skin, “sundew”, “buckthorn” and a variety of other ingredients, arranging it all in neat, careful rows, the way she knew Snape liked it. Every now and again, he gave orders, getting her to add ingredients to various cauldrons, adjust the heat and remove sediments from standing mixtures.
 
Snape rolled up his sleeves and spent most of his time in one corner, analysing mixtures, testing each one for thickness and density. He then prepared a large cauldron that he explained they’d be mixing everything into.
 
The afternoon while not the most pleasant she had ever spent, passed quickly. Snape only spoke when necessary and then only considered words, mostly to do with what they were doing but Eleni was pleased that he trusted her enough, not to be checking continuously to see if she was doing the right thing. His features had relaxed somewhat, despite his eyes narrowing with intense concentration.
 
Eleni wondered what the others would say when she told them that she had spent Christmas afternoon helping Snape and that she hadn’t minded. Well she thought, it was one way to stop thinking about the Weasley Christmas lunch.
 
Snape checked the temperature of the large cauldron he has set up and nodded in approval.

‘I need your help over here,’ he said.

Eleni moved to where he was standing and waited for instructions.

‘Some of the potions,’ he continued, ‘need to be poured into this cauldron at precisely the same time to be activated. Pick up those two vials to your left, one in each hand.’
 
He reached behind to a row of bottles and picked up two. However Eleni wasn’t paying attention, instead her eyes were transfixed by an ugly black mark on his forearm.

Snape’s face turned crimson when he saw her looking.

‘Damm it,’ he cried, startling her out of her reverie and causing Eleni to jump with fear. He jabbed his arm under her nose. ‘Here do you want a closer look? Just tell me when you’re finished gawking.’

Tears filled her eyes at the sound of his harsh voice.

‘Yes,’ he continued furiously, ‘it’s the Death Eater mark. I was a Death Eater. You can now tell the others that you have seen Professor Snape’s mark. I’m sure that will hold you in good stead with Mr Potter and Mr Weasley.’
 
Eleni’s face both paled and burnt with embarrassment. She tremulously shook her head and looked at him.

‘I didn’t know,’ she began weakly. ‘I mean I did know you were a Death Eater but honestly Professor Snape I didn’t know about the mark.’

‘Don’t lie to me Miss Devon, when you spotted it, you couldn’t take your eyes away. I saw the look of recognition on your face.’

‘Yes but…,’ she tried, recoiling at his anger.

‘What,’ he thundered, ‘spit out what you want to say.’

‘I did recognise it,’ she said, ‘but I didn’t know what it meant. It’s just that I’ve seen the mark somewhere before but I can’t remember where.’

Snape put down the vials and rolled down his sleeve, eyeing her suspiciously.

‘Are you saying that you didn’t know it was the mark every death eater wears?’

‘Yes sir, I didn’t know.’
 
Snape stared right through her, searching for signs of deception. ‘Do you remember where you’ve seen the mark?’ he asked.

‘Are you sure you’ve never seen a photo of it in the ‘Daily Prophet’?

Eleni swallowed and shook her head. ‘No I don’t think so but I know that I’ve definitely seen it somewhere.’

‘Perhaps you’ve seen it in your dream,’ said Snape.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Eleni. ‘I don’t think so. But I am telling you the truth Professor Snape,’ she added, ‘I didn’t know what significance the mark had.’
 
‘Very well,’ he said, after a long considered silence. ‘I believe you.’

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘However,’ he continued, ‘I want you to promise me that the minute you remember something, no matter how insignificant you might believe it is, you are to come to me directly. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I understand.’

‘Well then,’ he said, giving her what looked like a wry smile. Eleni knew it was the closest thing to an apology she’d get for his burst of anger. ‘Let’s begin to mix the potion. Now remember, don’t pour till I say so. It must be precise.’
 

* * * * *

 
Lucius Malfoy stood in the entrance of his home and watched as a shimmering light descended in front of him. Then in a blink of an eye, Mr Borgin apparated before him, holding a bottle of clear liquid and looking somewhat anxious.
 
‘You’re finally here,’ Malfoy growled.

‘Yes sir,’ said Borgin. ‘I have the potion. It’s all to you specifications.’

Malfoy looked at the bottle. ‘For you sake it better be.’

‘Oh it is sir,’ said Borgin, the bottle slippery in his nervous hands. He gave it to Malfoy who held it up to the light.

‘Excellent,’ he chuckled. ‘Draco,’ he called out, ‘come here. It’s arrived. Our plan is about to be put to action.’
Draco appeared from behind the door, his face luminous with glee. How wonderful it was going to be breaking into the Gryffindor tower? And Potter, Weasley and that awful mudblood would never know.
 
‘Come,’ said Lucius Malfoy, to Mr Borgin, ‘a drink before you go. Let’s toast the future and to the Dark Lord who will one day rule the world.’