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, 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 of the USA, 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 can not 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 my glasses on my nose and carried on my reading. It 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 sensation 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 once more. He was a horrid person. I didn't like him at all even if my father would proclaim 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 not like them. I waited for a couple of seconds, to be sure that that man was truly gone. Then, I put my book down before rushing 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 big green confused 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. But I knew what was happening at his place. That his Uncle and Aunt weren't taking very good car of him. My mother was shocked to learn that we only had a year difference and that he was older: he was much to small and frail compared to me. However, when seeing Dudley, his cousin, I could easily guess where all the food went instead to my friend who was suppose to receive it.

"Sp … Spencer," he groaned pitifully.

"Shhh … I'm here Superman, I'm here …," I told him while stroking his wild black hair. I remembered that 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 have seen 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 with a lot of unwillingness. 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 such a sweet child. I am happy that the poor boy has you as his friend."

"That poor boy, as you said Diana, is a proper calamity according to his family! You shouldn't pity him. It's already a lot that they took the time to welcome the child in their home after the death of his alcoholic parents. With such a genetic baggage, it's no wonder that the little one isn't all there." Concluded my dad, ignoring the furious look and shocked 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 pacific then Spencer."

"That's why I will be signing him up for football! He has to harden up a bit instead of having his nose in the books! And he should be friends with the Dursley boy, a company much respectable than the nephew."

I stopped myself from doing a remark, even if in my head I had various statistics concerning injuries received during football matches that I could think on the top of my head. I was also equally scared at the thought of Dudley being near me for more than ten minutes. The breaks were already very painful, even if Superman and I could escape from him, our muscles and lungs failing us quickly and I would 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, I didn't dragged myself in the living room, still angry with my father and preferred to go change then read in my room until exhaustion. I was surprised when my mother showed herself 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 did earlier with my friend.

"Forget what your father said, Spencer. He can not understand how much your friend means to you. But a mother knows."

I sighed of satisfaction when she posed her lips on my forehead at the exact same point where the lightning of Superman was.

"Never forget this feeling, Spencer. One must never forget a friend."

She smiled at me, took my glasses off gently and put them on my night table where she turned off the light. I snuggled deeper in the covers, feeling already Morpheus calling to me. In one last instance of conscience 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 remembered. He was feverish and his breaths came out chopped as if he had ran. 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 iced cold up to the deep-seated place of his soul. Did he just dreamed? Spencer tried to recall details of the dream but a violent headache. He stood up while shaking, with the firm intention of not taking a single medication. To not even touch the Dilaudid in his drawer. With the help of Morgan, Spencer had started his journey to stop his addiction problems after the Hankel affair. Affair in which he had been tortured by Raphael and Charles, then 'helped' by the drogue under the form of Dilaudid by Tobias. He still had nightmares concerning the subject, but talking to his friend helped him diminish the yearning to use the enslaving hallucinogen.

It was only after an aspirin pill with a giant glass of water that the young man allowed himself to remember his dream. He couldn't remember any Dursley living next to him. With an eidetic memory, it was difficult to even believe that he could have even have forgotten. Although, it 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 mostly : why had he forgotten?

Happy twenty-sixth birthday, Spencer …