Something to Remember

Chapter 11 The Vulnerabilities of Lord Voldemort

**

Hermione had gone home for a few days. Harry had gone to the Weasleys. Draco was with his mother, having a somber, quiet end-of-the-holiday gloom. Draco and Hermione had decided that things were basically going to be the same once they returned to school. The only difference now was their eternal bond ... And they knew they would be crucified at school for it -- especially by Slytherins. Nowadays, it mattered so much less, though. Draco knew, of course, that Hermione, Cho, as well as he himself, too, were all now targets as well with Harry for putting four Death Eaters in the unspeakable Azkaban prison ...

And yes indeed, but rather pleasantly so no less, Draco and his mother were quite specifically staying with Remus Lupin and Amelia Bones at the former's somewhat remoter residence. Narcissa felt terrible taking up his space but Remus insisted it was his pleasure. Draco quite liked Remus. They had never been on the same page when he had been a teacher, but of course that had been a different Draco. Hermione had written daily. She had told her parents about the wedding. They were confused, bewildered, and not understanding of it. She had expected no more from them regardless. Draco missed her, but he understood her need to be with her parents ...

Tonight was the precise date of December the thirty-first, the eve to the new year, and Draco, Narcissa and Lupin were seated closely around the comfort of the warmth-inducing fireplace in his rather modestly-furnished living room, immersed in conversation.

"So you went to school with Harry's parents? What were they like?" asked Draco curiously, trying to sound casual as to not alarm his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Lily was quite the sweetheart you know, eternally loved by everyone, but still tough and brave and thick-skinned as anyone, quite the real Gryffindor to the bone in her day, matter of fact -- just like the very man who would go on to eventually become her husband. James, oh yes, infamous James Potter ... Well now he was quite the troublemaker, an honor student no less though, exceptionally bright. They began dating in the fifth year ... Married as soon as they were out of Hogwarts. They were a part of the old Order of the Phoenix ... Yes, there was one before ... Thereupon Voldemort shortly discovered, err, the potentially -- well I suppose we'll just say 'impactful' -- family lineage belonging to James, and without a moment's waste sought after Harry ... And of course you know the rest is history. They were the best friends I could have had, along with Sirius of course. Peter was the traitor," explained Remus integrally, edginess titling his tone here and there. It seemed as though it was very uncomfortable for Remus to discuss this; yet at the same time, for a glimmer of a moment it perhaps seemed very soothing for him, too, strangely enough.

"Ah," Draco simply replied, sipping a drink from his goblet. "And Snape was at school with you as well?"

"Err ... Yes. As you know, we definitely were not friends. Harry does not know this, but Snape crushed on Lily, believe it or not," answered Remus awkwardly, looking away.

"Are you serious?" posed a rather taken aback Draco, much more interested now.

"Dumbledore believes Snape was, at the time, a loyal servant of Voldemort. Snape asked Voldemort to spare Lily, but that is to be kept to yourself. Snape would die if Harry was to know that," confirmed Remus a bit hoarsely, as his tone was rapidly darkening ...

"Yes, I don't doubt that," half-laughed Draco, accidentally. A rather unamused Remus uncomfortably stared as his former student then wore that ever-infamous, unmatchable "Draco Malfoy smirk" of his despite being still yet quite astonished. But at least now Draco had grown up enough that he actually looked regretful for causing Remus displeasure.

"Mother, tell me, did you ever give service to Voldemort?" asked Draco spontaneously, unexpectedly posing an obviously undesired question, but still wanting an honest answer. For whatever reason, at the present moment the only son of Narcissa Malfoy was quite eager to learn the truth about his own mother's history with Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

There was an uncomfortable pause. "No, but I was loyal to your father all those years," admitted Narcissa soberly, being very honest. "The Dark Lord saw me as useless. I would have never been able to do half the terrible things they did. I was no threat regardless; as I was unshakably loyal."

"Did you know Lily or James?" asked Draco earnestly.

"When I was in my seventh year at Hogwarts, Lily and James entered their first. I never knew her well, but did talk to her once or twice perhaps, nothing important. At that time, as you know, Voldemort was already in power. It was a dangerous time," described Narcissa reluctantly, too revealing her clear distaste with the topic in her obvious tone.

Feeling it best to change course into a totally unrelated conversation (and fast at that!), Draco needless to say did not pursue the topic for too much longer. (Although, when bygones were bygones, he had NOT, nor would he ever, cease to be Draco Malfoy, and nonetheless DID, however, ultimately enjoy inner, unexpressed amusement at their reaction with not a spot of guilt for a prolonged moment.)

**

Hermione arrived at the Burrow a few days before term. Katie Bell was there. Katie and Ron's relationship made her sad, as it was absolutely nothing more than raging hormones between teenagers. She would let Ron learn on his own. Cho and Harry had a bit more, they connected well, but Hermione did not know how much longer they would see each other.

"Hermione, you have a letter," said Katie, smiling. "We're going outside to play some Quidditch; we'll see you in a bit."

Hermione thanked her. She opened up the parcel and realized it was not from Draco, as she had expected, but from the Ministry of Magic, reading:

Greetings,

The Ministry of Magic is most grateful for the services you have performed for the Wizarding World. Your actions will not become forgotten. A ceremony of honor, in which you will receive an Order of Merlin, First Class, will be on January 4th, and we look forward to seeing you there for the acceptance ceremony.

Hoping you are well,

Amelia Bones, Incumbent Minister of Magic

**

Draco had received an invitation to a ceremony in thanks for his services in Diagon Alley. He was looking forward to this, it was an honor, and Hermione and the others would obviously be there. It would be the following day, and his mother found this very exciting.

"Oh, Draco, I'm so proud of you! Dumbledore has taught you so well," expressed his mother elatedly, total sincerity exasperated in her voice. "When I first heard about the terrible incident ... Oh my God, I just remember how just so, so frightened I was!"

"Draco has skills very rare, Narcissa, he really does ..." commended Remus sincerely.

"Where is Amelia Bones?" asked Draco suddenly, alertly changing the subject as this occurred to him.

"She has been gone for days at the Ministry, though she did send you that letter, obviously. I fear for her protection as she is the Minister now ..." Remus responded gravely.

"Quite dangerous, yes. She is still a very good choice. Quite remarkable, isn't she?" asked Narcissa, provoking a memorable response.

"Oh, yes, I certainly agree. But still, the Bones family will be the first on the list, and dear Susan has already lost so much of her family to Voldemort," replied Remus receptively, trying to sound as calm as he possibly could in his mention of the Hufflepuff in Draco's year.

**

Hermione looked absolutely stunning. She had worn her best dress robes, straightened her hair, and had obviously taken a lot of time to make herself perfect for the ceremony. Harry also looked quite nice. Draco knew Mrs. Weasley had most likely badgered him into looking just right. Next to him, stood Cho, and her beauty did shine out very well, and Draco understood why Harry fancied her so much. She looked very beautiful. Draco stood next to Hermione, also shining handsomely. He wore silver dress robes.

They were gathered inside the Ministry of Magic. Draco had been there before with his father. The Daily Prophet was documenting the event of the ceremony minute-by-minute, with apparent particular investment into the interactions between Hermione and himself. The two of them, plus Harry and Cho of course, were currently the spotlight of the main assembly hall. Every inch of the venue was covered in beautiful golden tiles, and the room was easily the size of two gymnasiums. A large crowd of people stood in front of them, sitting in long benches, reaching many rows back.

The four of them, necessarily placed in optimal view of everyone, stood at the front of the stage, a centerfold raised dais platform, and approaching them was Amelia Bones, Minister of Magic. She beamed at the four of them, especially Draco, who she had actually had a chance to talk to occasionally. In her hands she held four rolls of parchment. Behind her were two Ministry workers and they each held two small cases. Three of the cases were purple, but one of the Minister's henchmen held one larger, golden case.

Once the ceremony properly began, Amelia Bones approached Draco first. "Draco Serpente Malfoy, I award you Order of Merlin, First Class, in honor of your services for the Ministry. You shall never be forgotten for your cunning and quick actions in heed of Mr. Ollivander, who is eternally grateful," Amelia Bones declared happily. A long applause came from the crowd of people, and in the front row, Draco saw his mother and Remus beaming at him. Amelia Bones handed him the parchment and shook his hand. One of the Ministry workers approached Draco and opened his respective purple case. Inside was a silver necklace. "And I award you a replica of Slytherin." Draco bowed a bit, and the man politely put the necklace on him. On the end was a silver 'S' obviously standing for Slytherin.

Amelia Bones moved on to Hermione. "Hermione Jane Granger, I award you Order of Merlin, First Class, in honor of your services for the Ministry. Your very sharp thinking at your immediate recognition of those Death Eaters saved the lives of many. Your bravery to face them shows your utmost beauty, and shows you are a true Gryffindor." Amelia Bones smiled brightly, warmly gleaming at her, and handed her the parchment as she shook her hand.

Draco shifted for a moment and noticed Dumbledore, front and center, barely paying attention. He was speaking animatedly to the woman next to him, who Draco, quite sharply recognized. She was an enemy of his father ... At some point in Voldemort's peak, she had abandoned the Death Eaters, passed information to Dumbledore, and then went into hiding. Draco could only guess Dumbledore wanted a memory out of her ...

Meanwhile, Bones concluded her praise of Hermione with gracious devotion. "...And I award you a replica of Gryffindor." The appropriate Ministry worker then presented her with a sparkling, pretty pink necklace which he placed around her neck. The jewelry's shining beauty was most complimentary.

There was a large applause. As Amelia Bones moved onto Harry, the applause only grew, if possible, much louder. Draco smiled at his dear friend. "Harry James Potter, where to possibly start. You have escaped the treachery of the Dark Lord several times, and yet each time you have come back with honor, to do what it is right, and still remain, wonderful and great at heart, regardless of what has happened to you in your life. Your acts in Diagon Alley remain no different. You are the most worthy candidate I have ever met of the Order of Merlin, First Class."

The applause grew deafening as she handed him the parchment, and shook his hand. "I award you more than a replica of just Gryffindor. My dear niece, Susan, has already awarded you a necklace belonging to Hufflepuff herself, and I now award you in addition the famous locket that was made in collective memory of all four of Hogwarts' legendary founders."

Harry bowed a bit, and the assigned Ministry worker put around his neck the golden locket with the 'G' insignia on it. Harry smiled at the crowd.

Amelia Bones moved on to Cho. "And last, but certainly not least, I award Miss Cho Ling Chang Order of Merlin, First Class for her services to the Ministry. Your dear friend, Miss Granger, needed you more than ever facing three Death Eaters at once. You bravely used your skills and together fought three Death Eaters known for acts of unthinkable treachery. You are a true Ravenclaw. I expect greatness out of you." Amelia Bones winked at Cho. She handed her the parchment and shook her hand.

The appropriate Ministry presenter, a gruff-looking man wrinkled by middle-age, opened the final, purplish case and put around Cho's neck a jewelry replica of Ravenclaw, which had an 'R' engraved at its center. "And I award you a glorious locket symbolic of Rowena Ravenclaw herself."

The crowd applauded into prolonged cheers one last time, now upon the ceremony's conclusion. The four of them simply beamed at their supportive audience for the remaining duration of the honorable event, which, exclusively held on behalf of their brave integrity, left them uncontrollably all-smiles, and with a joyous sensation that for a few brief surreal moments felt indestructible. But in this admitted rare-as-ever occasion of uncontrollable gleefulness, someway the surreal strength of what they were feeling in these moments of tremendous, nonstop commendation quite frankly made them feel much too great about themselves for the perfect-like sensation currently suspending them to at all cease to be ...

No, for once nothing in their worldly circumstance would bring them down!

**

The ceremony had finally just ended. Hermione had already bid her love goodbye, and went to find Ron along with Harry, but Dumbledore had stopped them. "No, we have business to attend to." He twinkled proudly at them. They understood. "Draco is getting Mr. and Ms. Weasley as we speak."

Hermione had completely forgotten Ron had always been invited to the meetings. Hermione was surprised Dumbledore had not decided to invite Cho, but it seemed he wanted to keep the original order of things.

Draco came back with Ginny and Ron. "Where are we going, Professor?" asked Ron, who sounded excited. It was after all his very first meeting.

"My office. We cannot use a portkey to enter Hogwarts without coming from Hogsmeade initially, as there are many defenses on the school now. So, we will use a portkey to enter Hogsmeade Village, and then proceed from there ..."

Apprehensive but wholeheartedly trustful of the honorable headmaster, the chosen pupils followed Dumbledore's lead with confident belief.

**

Draco and Hermione found themselves rolling down the street by the entrance to Hogsmeade, looking like fools, after using the portkey. They quickly got up, and ignored the stares. They quickly ran to join Dumbledore, who was waiting on them. Harry, Ginny, and Ron approached them a few moments later.

"Everyone ready?" asked Dumbledore promptly, beaming appreciatively at each of them. "Let's go!"

They used the carriages to proceed directly to Hogwarts. Although the group was mostly silent during the ride back to the castle, the minds of the five teenagers nonetheless were racing with all sorts of livened-up thoughts as they nervously anticipated what Dumbledore had in store for them ...

**

Shortly thereafter the group arrived at the entrance to the office belonging to the headmaster. Quietly entering, they ascended the strange spiral-like staircase, and then the chosen five of them sat in front of Dumbledore once he'd seated himself in the chair on the other side (which was noticeably much more comfortable-looking, one could not help but notice), gesturing his welcome behind his rather cluttered desk. He was preparing the Penseive, Harry pretty positively presumed, and none of them talked much, but instead observed Dumbledore humbly.

After several minutes, Dumbledore looked up at them. "Tonight, I have four memories prepared for you. Each of them is absolutely and completely vital, and I must ask for your complete devotion and concentration to these memories. We last leave off with Voldemort finding a method to escape mortal death. That was very vital for you to understand. It was an ambition of his. He had known the story of his mother's death at childbirth. He saw her death as a weakness. Though there is something you must understand. The specific wizard disease in which Mary had acquired always would kill a fetus inside of the mother. But the effect worked opposite this time. Mary was able to give birth to Tom Riddle, though she lost her own life. Why this entirely unknown, yet altogether remarkable, beyond extraordinary scenario, and how?! Mary of course hadn't any knowledge of the prophecy of Rowena Ravenclaw, which was now starting to be fulfilled. And through the detail of every involved circumstance nothing but accurate corroboration of the prophecy can be found. Thus we know Ravenclaw to be most credible. And, now today as I stare at you, it is ultimately without any doubt whatsoever that the mysterious prophecy grows closer to full fulfillment with each passing day: 'The Heir of Slytherin will live to accumulate great power, and then, once his heritage is exposed, he will reign a threatening insurrection of his ever-evolving mightiness over the entire world'; it so had been verbatim recited by Rowena Ravenclaw."

The five of them were astonished speechless, yet utmost fascinated.

Dumbledore continued to elaborate on. "Voldemort was given a chance to die twice now. Our story goes on. He left Hogwarts with top marks. Information on Voldemort at this point is scarce; though we know at this time he already had abandoned his father's name and went by Lord Voldemort. We know Voldemort was ambitious for power. And we know he eventually went on to form the Death Eaters. I have acquired a memory from a woman who was of the first Death Eaters, who switched sides eventually. Her name is Annie Barking. She possibly loved Voldemort, her initial reason for joining him. This fact is vital to our memory. She has given us two memories. Our first is her meeting of Voldemort. Now, on count of three ..."

**

Draco found himself in a blink of a second crashing onto a stone floor. Looking up, he realized he was in a courtroom at the Ministry of Magic. As he was trying to get up, Harry and Hermione both fell upon him. He was so used to it at this point, he was barely shocked. Within a few moments, they were up to see Dumbledore, beaming, and Ron and Ginny by his side.

Dumbledore pointed forward. They were in the very back of a fairly packed courtroom. Stone benches lie in rows in front of them that mostly comprised the dozens of elders present, all of whom, each in formal Ministry uniform, wore identical solid-black, professionalized yet dull-appearing robes; on the other hand, though, the plainness of their attire perfectly matched their no-less-consistent, disengaged expressionless faces.

Conversely, at the very front of the raised dais that stood at the center of the room, a tall-standing woman with a bright smile in contrast appeared assert with focus and personal interest. This was Annie Barking, but in an obvious much younger state. She looked no older than perhaps twenty. She had short dark brown hair that was straightened perfectly. Her face was powdered in conventional makeup, and she had dark-red lipstick on her lips. She did not smile much longer though, and now looked harassed. Across from her was a clean-cut man that looked about forty. He was glaring at Annie ... The five students looked eager as ever to find out why.

Dumbledore then pointed to the stone bench directly in front of Annie, and Draco saw what appeared to be a slightly older Voldemort -- perhaps of thirty or so, but nonetheless still lively as ever in esteem, drive ever-burning in his cold eyes. He sat looking very well-groomed in his appropriate seat and seemed absolutely focused, encapsulated even, on the spectacle of Annie and the other man ...

"My opponent would like to continue enactment of the Muggle Protection Act and its affirmative legislation in regard to the welfare of Muggles," spoke Annie smoothly, in a very clear, business-like fashion.

"My opponent would like to eliminate development of the Muggle Protection Act currently in sequence," rebuffed her unimpressed opponent, who happened to be a "tough-as-nails", long-respected Ministry elder.

But she was not at all deterred. "It is my simple belief that we have far more important issues at hand than dealing with Muggles. We must do what we can for them, yes. But nevertheless, I simply cannot in good faith cease to emphasize what we all mustn't forget is always the most vital issue of all: the present-day wizarding world!!!!! And on sincere behalf of its wellbeing, as an officer of this court I must stress that all in all no matter what, ultimately above all else rests our duty to protect, FIRST AND FOREMOST -- our world! With such said, I thereby will not condone a reversal of priority to the Muggles, whom notably have been responsible for continuous persecution of us all throughout history. No, let us not be absentminded of much more important issues that provide DIRECT CONFLICT to us as a wizarding society." Annie expressed her every spoken word with complete candid honesty, it did seem; for, it could not go unmentioned the depth of consideration held within the remarkableness so very resonant in her unapologetic tone of confidence.

"The abuse of Muggles is not a concern to you?!" The disgusted man argued testily.

"I never said that, did I? But yes, I do assuredly believe that it is in the innate nature of most wizards to act with good reason and integrity around Muggles!" Annie said in retort, in a way that she meant business.

"And those who don't?"

"Handled at that time, Sir! Our investments should be made primarily to preserve our wizarding society, a tragically dying race of people. Subjected to constrictive environmental options, we have forcibly gotten too caught up in mating with Muggles for many, many years now ..."

"ENOUGH!" interrupted a very sudden, overbearing loud voice that echoed a spooky few times. In the corner an elderly man had courageously stood up and demanded order. "I believe this has gone on for quite enough time. Enough with the pointless disputations ... Those in favor of Ms. Annie Barking?"

A few hands rose, but not many. Voldemort was one of them.

"... And those in favor of Mr. Oliver Blue?"

The majority rose.

In a professional yet slightly agitated voice, as the self-assigned leading counselor the elderly man went and positioned himself front-and-center the meeting room, and took action to regain control and assembly. Loud-and-clear, the devoted man assumed a tone of speech which, well-pronounced in sternness, commanded the respect of the audience. "SETTLED! The Muggle Protection Act will continue." Luckily, the moderator at hand received immediate acquiescence as a result. Undoubtedly much relieved, the improvising diplomat did not (perhaps could not) suppress a grin at his impressively quick restoring of civility, order and undivided attention back to the hearing, an of course all-important necessity prior ALL else.

Unnaturally poisoned with consuming disappointment at her defeat, it was several moments before Anna started to gradually relax, guardedly smart to maintain some unreadability in her demeanor. Unsurprisingly, the subtle woman's logical execution worked just fine, and hence it was not long before Anna appeared dissipated of the apprehensiveness and tension which had been visibly vibrating in her muscles in heated moments prior ...

Soon after, the hearing adjourned, and the Ministry's various employed people began leaving slowly. The six of them went over to Annie. Annie looked absolutely distressed, and very angry. Voldemort had approached her.

"Foolish minds, are they not?" Voldemort commented mockingly, anger acidic in his tone.

Annie looked up. "Ah, Tom Riddle. I have heard the stories you know." But she was smiling.

"There are many, I presume?"

"You are a mysterious man, Mr. Riddle," said Annie in an almost flirtatious manner.

"But I am not Tom Riddle. I am Lord Voldemort." And he spoke quite sharply at this, his complete firmness sounding a bit contentious in delivery.

"So it is true you have adapted such a title." She sounded impressed.

"Oh yes."

"Voldemort, you shock many, frighten others. And you seem to appear and disappear just a bit much, too, you know." Annie articulated each word in a boldly suggestive manner, impressed and still smiling much. "You are capable of so much power, and we all know it."

"Yes! And I will be, in respect to the eventual, most superior glory above any other in the wizarding world in my seize of power. And not long after, I, the Dark Lord and king of all wizards and witches, will have received, in a most noteworthy, impressive short time span at that, the ultimate proclamation, 'Lord Voldemort, He the All-Powerful One, He, the Greatest Sorcerer in History'! But enough of my pontificating for now ... What precisely is it that you want, Annie?" The abominable man spoke first his words of grand declaration as though a statement of plain scientific fact, flaunting how far beyond any scope of arrogance his narcissism reached (spiting to watch, be as it may, even if not at all surprising). It was particularly nauseating to watch Voldemort slyly pretend to soften his tone to a gentleness which he decided presently best-suited this conversation. Draco saw Voldemort surveying Annie very closely, as though searching every inch of her demeanor for even the most minuscule appearance of doubt in even a slightest physical response. The guiltless Dark Lord evilly was yet unfinished unraveling his rope of slithery deception; he knew well to calculate just the right words in his every response, clearly considering what impression his intense utterance of such strong, never-to-be-forgotten words had just now left on Anna ...

Annie looked at Voldemort, and though cautious, it was looking as though she trusted him. "Muggles. I hate them. My father was a Muggle and he ... He .... Well, hurt me. I want to hurt the Muggles back ... Vengeance is sweet," expressed Annie strongly; her every word was impassioned, sung each as an empowered thing of creation, propelling one after the other as one and the same to form the completion of a palpable, extraordinarily moving speech. Truthful anger seemed radiant inside of her, necessary even, given the impossible degree of passion at volume in her tone ...

Voldemort's eyes seemed to be pink in general now, or he seemed to be able to control them enough so they didn't glow red normally. But as Annie said those final words, his eyes went red, to their normal color. And they glowed forward with intimidation, tantalizing all in sight in their disturbing lack of the innate qualities which define what it is to be human, entirely void of empathy or even slight capacity for fellow human regard. In emphasis of fact, Harry felt lucky to get such a rare (especially so relatively close-up) studious chance to stare at this particular memory's remarkably detailed vision of Lord Voldemort without the immediate, obvious danger of a real-life confrontation. Thanks only to the wonderful Penseive, without any concern or worry to his safety Harry now capably searched deep into the monster's eyes ...

There was nothing to be found except a barren, cold nature; an everlasting band of live detest for the rest of humanity.

(Noteworthy enough though, a plain fact indifferently applied to past memories, yes, but just as well to those which remained ever-to-come, too, really. After all, one positively irrefutable factor applied without exception to every single act of evil committed by Voldemort throughout the entire span of his lifetime, and which overruled all variables otherwise: singularly insurmountable and forever-existent stood the impenetrable guarantee of terror, onslaught, and certainty of doom at primary containment in every single massacre of evil culpable to Voldemort's hands; and yet funnily enough, despite the strength of its powerful definition, the statement in its technical self was just so clear-as-day that the obviousness of its knowledge was, in turn, just so universally known -- and thereby not particularly interesting -- as to actually be quite easily OVERLOOKED!)

"Yes. Come with me, Annie ... You will do well with me. I assure you."

**

"...And that is our first memory," Dumbledore appropriately made simple note of, speaking in an indistinct, non-inflected tone rather rare for him. In observation, it was then made easily apparent to his students that their headmaster, most talented and great, was impressively just in full focus on the task of at hand. But moments like this were perhaps healthy for them though, as it reminded them to always appreciate these symbols of Dumbledore's rightful glory and extraordinary might of power; for, after all, it would be most disrespectful for them to even forget for a slightest moment all it was that Dumbledore did for them and the whole wizarding world.

Hermione and the others had just found their seats in his office once again. "Why did Annie come back to our side?" asked Hermione, who was fully intrigued by all of this.

"Ah, that is for our second memory, my student. But I must tell you a bit about Annie Barking. Her mother died when she was one years old, and her father, the Muggle, sexually abused her. She went to Hogwarts and studied very hard to never have to see her father again. She joined the Ministry, though seriously admired the Dark Arts. She had heard stories of Lord Voldemort. After Voldemort had left Hogwarts, he did many things .... Some wondrous, some mysterious, and his motives were never truly discovered. At the time of the first memory, he was working for the Ministry, of course only until he could gain more power." He paused to give them a moment to prepare to concentrate, surveying them.

"Annie was trying to get the Ministry, in a hopeless attempt, to eliminate the Muggle Protection Act. Of course she was unsuccessful. And I believe it was at this point when she realized she didn't want to work for the Ministry. She became one of the early Death Eaters." Dumbledore paused for a moment, allowing them to sink in the new information. "Now, our next memory takes places years later. It is another of Annie's. For eleven years, Voldemort was in his peak of power. This memory takes places only a few months before Harry conquered him."

"And all this time, Annie loved Voldemort?" asked a very focused Harry, sounding confused and disgusted yet entirely interested to hear more nevertheless.

"Yes, and please keep that in mind for out next memory. And please remember Voldemort is absolutely incapable of caring for any human being."

**

Hermione and the others crashed on their hands and knees this time, to what seemed to be a normal Muggle street. They seemed to be in the middle of London. They were next to a newspaper building and on the other side a shopping mall. The newspaper office was on fire and there were Muggles running down the street, screaming for their lives. There were cloaked figures everywhere, very obviously Death Eaters. They were shooting spells at Muggles, randomly, torturing them in terrible ways. One Death Eater had a Muggle choking himself to death. Another had just shot The Killing Curse at what looked like a child of no older than eleven. It was one of the most disturbing scenes Hermione had ever seen in her life.

Hermione held onto Draco's arms, she was frightened regardless of it being a simple memory. Lord Voldemort was walking down the street, his hood of his cloak was down and it was obvious it was him. And at this point, obviously, he was not hiding his red eyes. They were horrible to look at ... Draco was shaking in her arms. And she glanced at Harry. Harry, Ron and Ginny were all huddled together. Voldemort was not alone. Next to him were the famous Lestranges (who were in Azkaban now), along with Annie. Voldemort was now sending the Killing Curse off simply randomly .... At men, women, children .... It didn't matter to him. The Muggles were screaming for their lives. It was horrendous.

And at that point, with a Crack!, Aurors from all over appeared. Spells were flying all over the place now ... Some of the Aurors were trying to save the people .... Others tried to fight off the Death Eaters ... From what Hermione could see, it seemed useless .... There were so many Death Eaters ....

"Alas, they come. The job was a bit easy," Voldemort laughed loudly. "Avada Kedavra!" An Auror, just like that, was dead on the floor. In a flash of a surreal, unearthly moment, an innocent human life had been unjustly stolen. And Voldemort just mercilessly laughed away, his face colored with a vivid expression of his sick amusement.

Then, Annie screamed. "Please, don't!"

"What, fool?" Voldemort asked harshly.

"Don't kill him! He is my cousin!" Annie was screaming. In front of Voldemort, an Auror pulled down his hood. A man stood who looked at Annie in shock.

"Annie ... I had heard .... My God ...." The Auror sounded fierce, not afraid. "Step aside, Annie."

Voldemort pointed his wand forward, and shot a Killing Curse at him. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" But the Auror swiftly dodged it.

"Please, Tom!" screamed Annie desperately.

"The Dark Lord's tone was inflected with heavy huffing and the uncontrollable clenching of his teeth when he alas spoke, finally, following a prolonged moment of silent, utmost tension that ensued after Annie's words. "... What did you just call me?! How dare you call me by that name, foolish girl!" Voldemort sounded absolutely enraged.

"Don't kill him ..." Annie's voice was frightened as ever as she humbly begged for the poor man's life.

"You take orders from me, you filthy half-blood," bellowed Voldemort threateningly, cruelly laughing at her fear.

Tearful as ever now, Annie was seemingly careless to pride as she begged for the life of the poor man without relent. "Please, Voldemort, I love you! My Lord, I beg of you, have mercy ..." Annie was crying almost inconsolably. Hermione almost felt sorry her; the poor woman had lost her mind over time.

Voldemort looked even angrier, if possible. "Do not dare say that to me! How little respect you show for my authority and rightful overpower ... SUCH AUDACITY! HOW DARE YOU, ANNIE?! You leave me no choice -- CRUCIO!" And Annie was immediately screaming in agony for several moments which felt like eternity ...

And it stopped. She had no time to waste. "...Expelliarmus!" screamed Annie, shockingly managing to fire back at Voldemort despite the aftereffects of the Unforgivable Curse's infliction upon her. Then, suspense hanging high in the air, it unbelievably so happened that, within the blink of the instantaneous next moment, it impossibly suddenly looked like she had miraculously recovered just in time -- his wand flew out of his hand!

The other Death Eaters shot spells at Annie, all missing. But then Bellatrix Lestrange shot the Killing Curse at Annie's cousin. He was dead on the floor.

"Crucio!" bravely cried out Annie, who looked angrier than Voldemort had. Bellatrix screamed in agony; for a briefest moment, so greatly justified, so intensely satisfied the intention behind her usage of the Unforgivable Curse so felt, it indeed became the serious cause of an all-menacing, scathing smile which Annie immediately grew the guiltless audacity to give them all.

"Enough of this!" screamed Voldemort frighteningly. Then, blindsiding them, steadying his enraged, shaky hands, livid he summoned his wand and with a Crack! was gone. The next moment an exponentially magnified Crack! followed that deafeningly encompassed the air, and then the remaining Death Eaters had all Apparated away at once. The Dark Lord and his detestable fleet of minions had cowardly fled the moment Annie recoiled with a (likely unknown of) talent for dueling. She did not follow suit and also Apparate away to some refuge of sort, even in spite of the not-at-all-implausible scenario that they re-appeared and devastated her with a blitz attack.

The sight of all these abominable acts of murder, violence, of unfathomable degrees of evil, without doubt would bring the five of them horrible nightmares in countless nights to come.

**

"...That was horrifying, Sir," let out Harry alas, in a rather cooled voice. But Harry knew more about The Lestranges than the ones around him. The Lestranges had been convicted of torturing Neville's parents.

"It was. But it was imperative that you witnessed that memory. Do you understand why?" asked Dumbledore very seriously, opening a session of critical thoughts for their minds to ponder as he sat carefully surveying all five of them.

"Voldemort hurts the ones who show any sign of caring," precluded Harry, first certain, then immediately feeling he'd made the stupidest guess possible.

But Dumbledore nodded receptively at him nonetheless. "Yes .... Voldemort never understood love. When Annie told him she loved him, he saw it as mocking. Never once has Voldemort ever cared for anyone. And he never will. It is his ultimate weakness. It will be his downfall." Dumbledore looked at them with astute sharpness as each of his careful expressions colored with passion and outward inclination. It was evidently extremely important that they got a grasp on this matter.

"... What ever happened to Annie?" asked Ginny in a tiny voice.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, smiled lightly at Ginny as if to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with asking that question, and then articulated his answer confidently. "She passed along everything she knew. She had never killed a soul even as a Death Eater and she ended up escaping Azkaban. And for the Lestranges in that memory, they are in Azkaban now." Dumbledore looked at Harry specifically with a very pronounced closeness before continuing his lecture; Harry's only guess was that the intent, fixed gazing that passed momentarily between the two of them was to serve as a reminder that this information was by far most relevant to him.

But the moment passed before Harry knew it, and Dumbledore refocused his watchful eyes, hidden behind moon-shaped, funny-looking spectacles, upon them all collectively, and continued his elaboration strongly. "Our third memory is shortly before Voldemort destroyed Harry's parents. It is one of Professor Snape's and it took much to get this memory out of him. It is a conversation between Severus and Voldemort."

**

Draco and Ginny had collided onto a stone floor. Draco looked up. They were in a cellar. He got up quickly, just in time as Harry and Ron fell on top of Ginny. Hermione had crashed into the wall. He helped her up, and they approached Dumbledore, who had his foot against the stone wall, looking bored.

Snape and Voldemort walked inside the cellar and began talking right away in very serious voices, clearly measuring the volume of their tones with every second. A distinct sense of subtle urgency seemed to overly the scene this time that they'd not perceived in the preceded recollections. It seemed to make this particular scene move along more quickly:

"What is your request?" inquired Voldemort quickly, looking Snape directly in the eye.

"My Lord, if it is possible in any way through you, I beg of you to spare the life of Lily Potter." Snape had a pleading look in his eyes.

Draco looked sharply at Harry, who looked extremely stunned and bewildered.

"Ah, Snape .... Tell me why."

Snape did not speak, abashed.

"You loved the filthy Mudblood girl, didn't you?" Voldemort laughed harshly at Snape, who quietly looked down at his feet, embarrassed, and just nodded.

"Severus, Severus .... I shall give her the chance to live, as you have obeyed me so well."

**

"Sir, how is this possible?!" Harry demanded to know, frozen in a state of striking shock.

They'd just returned to the headmaster's office a few moments prior. Dumbledore let out a long, perhaps tired sigh. His voice was carried by sheer compassion when he responded to Harry's ultimatum a few quiet moments later, surprising his audience just a bit. "At this time, Severus was already a double-agent. He worked as a spy for us. He knew Voldemort was going for your parents, Harry, and knowing that it was very possible for Voldemort to succeed, he asked this. Now you ask how it was possible for Snape to have cared for your mother. When all were cruel to him, Lily alone defended him. When James was cruel to him, Lily scolded him always. He became quite fond of her over the years, I suppose ...."

Harry was in utter disgust, speechless as he attempted to fathom all this information at once.

"Remus told me, Harry. I swore I wouldn't tell," admitted Draco bashfully.

"I'm so sorry about all this, mate. I mean, bloody hell, I reckon it's just SO messed up how this all went down with Snape ..." sympathized Ron, looking sadly over at Harry, his best friend in the world.

"Our final memory is perhaps one week before the murder of Harry's parents. It is a memory of Narcissa. She held you, Draco, as a very small child, as Lucius and Voldemort paraded down a bridge murdering Muggles and we are so lucky to retrieve this. Come now ...."

**

They were on a small bridge. Draco saw his mother ... Holding himself ... It was so odd. His mother had never told him about this. Lucius and Voldemort were walking down the bridge. Noticing the sky, it must have been past midnight. The scene was not quite as horrific as the one in Annie's last memory. There were only a few Muggles in this one, all whom Voldemort and Lucius seemed to enjoy torturing. Draco looked over at his mother studiously; he looked almost wistful in a way as he enraptured himself in the vision of her. She looked terrified ...

"My Lord, have you discovered where the Potters are yet?" asked Lucius pertinently, as he mercilessly dangled a Muggle in the air.

"Wormtail has been made Secret-Keeper. He has already passed the information on to me. They will be finished very soon. I killed nearly the entire Bones family ... I had to ... They had information to pass on Dumbledore of the Draught of Destruction."

"No .... But they are taken care of, obviously."

"Not that Amelia Bones, though, powerful a witch as she is ... But she still knows nothing too damning. I will get to her soon enough regardless. The Draught of Destruction is the most powerful potion. It deprives a wizard of all magical powers and makes them nothing more than a common man. It is believed to be a myth. However, the Bones were able to concoct it ... I was luckily able to destroy the lot of them before they could pass any information of it along to the king of the Muggle-lovers, Dumbledore of course ... Kill the Muggle now, Lucius!" Voldemort commanded of his servant, and Lucius sent a Killing Curse at the Muggle, who of course instantly died.

"Lucius, dear, Aurors!" interrupted Narcissa in a scream. There had been a loud Crack!, and indeed, half a dozen fierce-looking Aurors were there ...

**

"So is that the key to destroying Voldemort, Headmaster?!" asked Harry desperately. He felt exhilarated, practically breathless, and utterly humbled by the extraordinary intake of vital knowledge tonight.

"Perhaps, Harry, though the sample of the Draught of Destruction that the Bones family created is nowhere to be found, as they were killed. The remainder of the living Bones family knows nothing of it," Dumbledore said gently, sounding sad. "There is a bit more to this, it would be possible to concoct another sample of this ... However .... It is getting late. Your things have already been sent over. You will remain at the castle for the rest of the holiday, as that would be much safer ... And do ponder what you have learned tonight."

And upon these wise words of guidance, the headmaster passed his eyes across their faces intently, and then offered each of them an emphatic gaze, wide-eyed and pensive, almost, past the scope of his moon-shaped spectacles. Indeed, his deep blue eyes in just a few brief seconds formed five separate stares which, all special and unique in their intention, each caught the individual eye of its rightful receiver. Weirdly enough, each of his fives receivers felt "gifted" (so to speak) with something to think about, something especially given to them which surely was meant to be interpreted, somehow ... Except this time a mystery had been individually separated into five different puzzle pieces, and so, hence, now all five of them each had their own conundrum to resolve without each other's possible assistance.

It was perhaps the first time an object's level of importance was not automatically procured for Harry at means far more substantial. Thus, this spontaneous arrival of an equally meaningful, SEPARATE puzzle for each of his four entrusted friend just as well -- this most especially given that each mystery was individually theirs to independently solve at that -- was, in turn, a source of particular intrigue for them; one, in fact, which they could not help but ponder (obviously mixed in their emotion) as they journeyed back to their appropriate dormitories (but no one more so than Ron, not surprisingly!)

**