Chapter Text
Title : Memories
Warning : M, will contain mentions of abuse, of torture and of violent murders. There will be equally mention of Slash (love between men) in the future chapters. The Harry Potter story will be following the books up until the fifth book. After that, my twisted mind will completely transform the rest as well as his childhood with the Dursleys. If this bothers you, don’t hesitate to stop reading this story and go find another fanfiction!
Summary: Harry has lived in Las Vegas during his childhood, as a neighbor and friend to Spencer Reid, but a magical accident forced him to move and the Ministry to erase his friend’s memory. Twenty years later, Harry, having become an Auror at the Ministry of Magic in the United States, is assigned to the BAU and meets, once again, Spencer who has already started to remember a little boy with green eyes.
Couple : Harry/Morgan
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter, nor Criminal Minds belong to me. *sniff*sniff* Whyyyyyyyyyy? T_T
Personal disclaimer: I don’t own “Memories” since it belongs to the wonderful french author Markhal. I’m doing a little personal homework for the upcoming exams. One of my exams is a translation from french to english (and vice-versa).
This story rocks so not only am I studying for my exams, but I’m putting up one of the most incredible stories that should be shared in the English world. So, please, tell me what you guys think and I will pass on the word to the author who is worthy of all praises.
Anyway, please enjoy the story as I slowly translate the first ten chapters, then as I wait for an update of the author.
Prologue : Sweet Dreams
An arab proverb says: “The truth cannot be contained in a single dream, but a dream can contain the truth.”
-CM-HP-CM-HP-
I was sitting on the porch of my house with a book on my knees. I pushed back the glasses on my nose and carried on reading. This was the seventeenth time that I was reading this book but it was still as good as the first time. Thanks to my memory, I could recite it word-for-word, but nothing could replace the feel of paper, the weight of the book in my hands, the leather of the cover between my fingers.
“OUT, BOY! AND DON’T COME BACK AS LONG AS YOU DIRTY THIS HOUSE!”
I grimaced as I heard the neighbor shout ing again . He was a horrid person. I didn’t like him at all even if my father would claim the contrary ; that he and his wife Petunia were ‘adorable’. I found it difficult to appreciate people who spend their time screaming but nobody apart from me and my mom seemed to dis like them. I waited for a couple of seconds, to be sure that the man was truly gone. Then, putting my book down, I rush ed to the side of my only friend on the other side of the wall of bushes that separated us from each other.
He was sitting on the grass, his confused green eyes were attracted to mine instantly, like a magnet pointing north. I noted the busted bleeding lip. The unique visible trace of abuse he refused to tell me about . But I knew what was happening at his place. That his Uncle and Aunt weren’t taking very good care of him. My mother was shocked to learn that we only had a year’s difference between us and that he was older: he was much to o small and frail compared to me. However, when seeing Dudley, his cousin, I could easily guess where all the food went instead of going to harry.
“Sp … Spencer ? ” he groaned pitifully.
“Shhh … I’m here Superman, I’m here …,” I told him while stroking his wild black hair. I remembered my mother doing that to me to reassure me and calm me down. I traced inattentively the strange lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, always so fascinating even if I had seen it for two months now. He gave me a hesitant smile at the nickname, which, according to him, was very badly chosen.
“You know Houdini, you are the only person I have in this world.” He confessed after a while.
I replied with a brilliant smile and we stayed there until he was called to make them dinner. He released himself reluctantly . We never separate with a goodbye. Never.
“Where were you Spencer?” My mom asked me after I came back.
“I was with Superman. His uncle shouted at him again and he needed me.”
“You are so nice to him, honey. I am glad that poor boy has you as his friend.”
“That poor boy, as you say, Diana, is a proper calamity according to his family! You shouldn’t pity him. It’s already enough that they took the time to welcome the child in their home after the death of his alcoholic parents. With such genetic baggage, it’s no wonder that the little one isn’t all there.” Concluded my dad, ignoring the shocked and furious look of my mother, and my own anger after hearing my friend being insulted.
“William! Stop saying such dreadful things! That child is as sweet and peaceful/passive as Spencer.”
“This is why I will be signing him up for football! He has to harden up a bit instead of always having his nose in the books! And he should make friends with the Dursley boy, a company much more respectable than the nephew.”
I stopped myself from making a remark, even if I had various statistics concerning injuries received during football matches that I could think off the top of my head. I was also equally scared of the thought of Dudley being near me for more than ten minutes. The school breaks were already very painful, even if Superman and I could escape from him, our muscles and lungs fail ed us quickly and I remember with some shame the ‘correction’ that Dudley and his friends gave him yesterday.
The rest of the dinner passed in silent. After having finished eating, still angry with my father, I didn’t drag myself to the living room, instead I went to change then read in my room till exhaustion took me . I was surprised when my mother showed up when I was about to turn off the lamp before going to sleep. She sat next to me and she stroked my hair gently like I had done earlier with my friend.
“Forget what your father said, Spencer. He can’t understand how much your friend means to you. But a mother knows.”
I sighed with satisfaction when she pressed her lips to my forehead at the exact same place where the superman’s lightning scar was .
“Never forget this feeling, Spencer. One must never forget a friend.”
She smiled at me, took my glasses off gently and putting them on my night table she turned off the light. I snuggled deeper under the covers, already feeling Morpheus calling to me. In one last moment of consciousness I promised to the heart of the night. “I will never forget you Harry.
-CM-HP-CM-HP-
Quantico, Virginia, United States —Spencer Reid’s House — 12th of October, 2007.
“HAR …!”
Spencer Reid, twenty-seven years of age, woke up with a start with a name on his lips which escaped him when he tried to remember. He was feverish and his breaths came out ragged as if he had been running. His alarm clock showed that it was 3:30 in the morning, but the doctor did not want to go back to sleep. He felt a deep-seated coldness in his soul. Did he just have a dream? Spencer tried to recall details of the dream but felt a violent headache coming on. He stood up shakily, with the firm intention of not taking a single medication. To not even touch the Diluvium in his drawer. With the help of Morgan, Spencer had started his journey to stop his addiction problems after the Hankel affair. The affair in which he had been tortured by the dual personalities of Raphael and Charles, then ‘helped’ by being drugged under the influence of Diluvium by Tobias. He still had nightmares concerning that time, but talking to his friend helped him diminish the yearning to use the enslaving hallucinogen.
It was only after taking an aspirin pill with a large glass of water, that the young man allowed himself to try and remember his dream. He couldn’t remember any Dursleys living next to him. With an eidetic memory, it was difficult to believe that he could even have forgotten. Though, it had all seemed so … so real. It was almost like it was a … memory?
Who was this little boy? Was he really his first friend?
And more importantly why had he forgotten?
Happy twenty-seventh birthday, Spencer …