Harry Potter and the Headmaster's Pensieve

Chapter 5 - Headquarters

A blast of salty sea air made Harry's eyes water as he appeared atop a secluded dune not twenty feet from the ocean. A flock of birds had been startled by his appearance, but the few vacationers enjoying the beach hadn't noticed him at all. Bright sunlight through puffy white clouds temporarily blinded him as he looked out onto the azure waves, and he blocked his eyes with his hand as he looked around. He noticed a few shabby-looking buildings behind him, and saw that he was in the outskirts of Godric's Hollow.

Picking up his luggage, he walked slowly towards the path into the heart of the town. Flashes of memories filled his mind, making the place seem strangely familiar. It had been over sixteen years, but part of him still felt like he was finally returning home. The cobblestones were cracked and aged, but as Harry looked at them, he remembered the feeling of his parents lifting him over a missing stone as they made their way to the beach. Sure enough, he soon spotted the missing cobblestone and couldn't help but smile.

The town was small. Harry had thought it would be difficult finding his old house, but his feet led him there without his mind registering what was happening. Approximately fifteen minutes after appearing outside of Godric's Hollow, he stood outside a broken down house, its door hanging off the hinges and its windows cracked. The lawn was overgrown with weeds, and the wooden fence had all but rotted away. Yet something inside Harry told him that this was his home.

"Finally come back, have you?" an elderly voice asked behind him. Harry whirled around and found himself face to face with a very old man leaning heavily on a cane. He was completely bald, but had copious amounts of hair coming out of his ears. He wore thick round spectacles that reminded Harry a little bit of Professor Trelawney. His clothes told him plainly that this man was a muggle.

"I - what?" Harry asked, confused.

"We knew you'd be back someday. You're the spittin' image of your dad, but you've got your mum's eyes. Nice folks, they were. Lily'd come visit m'wife in the garden nearly every day, 'cept those few months near the end. Terrible thing, what happened to them. Least they went down fightin," the man said as he stumped closer to Harry.

"You, er, who are you? And how do you know what happened to my parents?" Harry replied tentatively. The man sniggered.

"Ah, o'course you wouldn't remember me. The name's Hywel Erevander, an' I've lived here since I was just a babe. And sonny, everyone knows about your parents, and what happened to them," the man said jovially, though his expression grew darker when he spoke about Harry's parents. He held out a hand. Harry shook it, unsure of what the man knew. Muggles weren't supposed to know about anything going on in the wizarding world, after all.

"What exactly happened to my parents?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Come off it boy, everyone knows that you know. You-Know-Who hasn't exactly tried to hide his presence nowadays, has he?" Mr. Erevander said indignantly. "Now come in for a spot o' tea. M'legs are aching."

Flabbergasted, Harry followed the man, dragging his trunk behind him.

"I'm sorry sir, I just didn't realize that the muggles knew what had happened," Harry said hurriedly as he caught up with him. "Typically the ministry doesn't want the muggles knowing that wizards exist."

"And they didn't. Came 'round the day after saying that it'd been some sort of gas explosion or such nonsense. Modified all o' our memories, but we all knew something was fishy. We knew about the wizards, o' course. Had a fair few livin' here at the time, and they seemed a bit too happy that James and Lily were gone. Your parents were quite popular, and it didn't add up that they'd be so pleased that they were dead. Little Miranda Orveck was a young witch who lived by herself, and while she was the sweetest thin' you ever did meet, she couldn't keep a secret for anythin'. She told us what happened, and what it meant, cause she felt that we muggles ought t'know. Course, we all figured he'd come back, cause waving a little stick never did nothing to stop us muggles."

They had entered his house, which was surprisingly similar to Number 4 Privet Drive. However, it showed the obvious lack of a meticulous cleaner as Aunt Petunia had a habit of being. There was dust on every glass surface, a few coffee rings on the worn wooden side tables, and a few spots on the carpet that Harry knew Aunt Petunia would have spent hours removing, had this been her house. He knew that this was what a proper home should look like. Mr. Erevander waved Harry towards the couch and limped towards the kitchen. Harry left his luggage by the door and dropped into the couch, causing a cloud of dust to explode into the air.

"Did the ministry punish her for telling you?" Harry called into the kitchen.

"They didn't have a clue. We certainly didn't tell them, and they don't waste their time reading muggles' minds. We never told anyone, either - who'd believe us, anyway? A gas explosion was as good of an excuse for us as it was for them ministry workers," came the reply. Shortly after he limped back into the living room carrying a tea tray. Harry jumped up to help him and they settled around the coffee table. Mr. Erevander entertained Harry with stories about his parents for nearly an hour before Harry finally told him that he had to leave.

"If y'need anything, sonny, I'll be here. Just come knocking - I'll enjoy the company," Mr. Erevander told him as he walked him to the front gate again.

"I will, sir. Thank you."

With increasing trepidation, Harry made his way to the broken down house that had once been his home. The sun was beginning to set, casting rays of orange light through the dusty, cracked windowpanes. The door swung open, creaking noisily as Harry pushed it. The sight that greeted him came out of a dream, the memories like yellowed photographs shooting across his mind. The furniture badly needed cleaning, and a thick layer of dust dulled the colors of the upholstery and carpet, yet it was undoubtedly the same living room he had spent the early years of his life playing in. He wandered from room to room, surveying the untouched furniture and fading wallpaper. While everything looked old and careworn, nothing had been disturbed from the night its occupants had left, and Harry wondered if enchantments had been placed on the house to deter anyone from entering. Each room brought back flashes of memories he didn't know he had. His feet were taking him places that his mind couldn't understand, and every step brought pangs of emotion with each memory he recalled. He hazily realized that he was moving up a set of creaking stairs, but didn't know why. He entered a room he recognized - a room that had haunted him every time he was near dementors, one that he saw frequently in his dreams. His nursery. The haze clouding his mind was suffocating him, drowning him with memories and emotions long locked deep in his mind. Overwhelmed, Harry blacked out.

Cries were emanating from his mouth - loud, panicky cries that blocked out almost all noise. Crashes from the living room were barely audible, only increasing his fear. He cried out even louder, hoping to block out the sound.

A shock of coppery hair and pale skin appeared. His mother. "Hush, Harry, hush. We're going to see uncle Albus, he'll take care of us," his mother said quickly, barely in a whisper. His cries lessened, but his fear did not. His mother was hurriedly dressing him, covering his pajamas with a bright red woolen coat and thick pants. She began fastening a small boot around his foot when the noise in the living room abruptly stopped. His mother paused for a moment, trembling. A creak on the stairs alerted her to another's presence, and she hastily fastened the first boot, then picked up the next.

"Lily Evans, isn't it? I will ask you to stand aside - I have no desire for you to die, as your foolish husband seemed all too eager to do. All I want is your child, and I will leave you be," a high, cold voice said from the doorway. The unmistakable voice of Lord Voldemort. An expression of intense terror flashed over Lily's face, quickly replaced by firm resolution. Dropping the boot into Harry's crib she waved her wand at the window, sending a shining silver owl speeding through the night air before turning.

"You can't have him," she said, blocking Harry with her own body.

"Can't I? And how will you stop me?" Voldemort asked, obviously amused.

"Any way I can," she replied, lifting her wand. "Impedimenta!" she shouted, but Voldemort had already screamed "Expelliarmus," sending her wand in a graceful arc landing neatly in his pale hand.

"Silly girl, you cannot beat me," Voldemort said, his voice devoid of all previous mirth it had held. "Now, stand aside and I will take Harry and go."

"Never!" Lily said, her voice trembling slightly. Her shoulders were squared, her posture defensive.

"Stand aside, you stupid girl! Do not force me to kill you," Voldemort said, his temper rising.

"You'll have to kill me to get to Harry," Lily said, backing into the wooden posts of the crib. Harry's cries, which had previously died out, began again as he sensed his mother's fear. His cries incensed Voldemort, who pointed his wand at Lily threateningly.

"Perhaps you think I won't do it, then? That I wouldn't kill a helpless mother? You're wrong, Lily. I'll kill anyone who gets between me and your little boy, and I'll laugh about it later. You can't protect him," Voldemort said, slowly walking towards Lily.

"I will die protecting my son!" Lily screamed, tears of fear and rage streaming down her cheeks. She reached behind her, her hand grasping for any part of Harry she could hold onto. Harry clamped a set of pudgy fingers on her wrist, and Lily let out a gasp of sorrow. Yet Harry's contact seemed to strengthen her, and her shaking stopped.

"Very well, if that is what you wish," Voldemort said, taking another step towards Lily. She stood tall, facing him, facing her death. His wand was raised. "You will see your beloved son soon. AVADA KEDAVRA!" He shrieked, his voice high and filled with such power and raw emotion that the glass of the window shattered behind Harry. His mother crumpled to the floor, and Harry cried as he never had before. The boy's screams echoed through the sleepy street like a siren.

Voldemort surveyed Lily's body with grim satisfaction, apparently oblivious to Harry's screams. A twisted sneer contorted Voldemort's face, but Harry seemed not to notice. Voldemort raised his wand at the boy, his eyes glittering red.

"Avada Kedavra," he said, his voice almost a whisper. Yet the force of this spell was even more than the previous, and the shattered glass was blown out of the window completely. The curse rushed towards Harry, and the boy was momentarily silent as his eyes fixed on the green light speeding towards him. As it touched his forehead a sparkling golden glow surrounded the boy, forming an impenetrable shield around him. The bright green light bounced off the shield, and raced towards its originator. Unable to move, unable to protect himself in any way, Lord Voldemort was hit with the full force of his curse and disappeared in a mass of robes and white mist.

Harry's cries echoed for hours until Hagrid's bushy beard and tear-filled eyes finally appeared over him. His face was etched with sorrow. He lifted Harry out of the crib and hugged him tightly.

"Y'poor boy, Harry. You poor little thing," Hagrid said, large teardrops falling onto Harry's blanket.

"Sonny, sonny, are you alright?" Harry heard as he swam back into consciousness. Mr. Erevander was kneeling over him, holding a rusted flashlight. Harry struggled to pull himself into a sitting position, lifting a shaking hand to his sweat-soaked forehead. His scar was blissfully pain-free, but he jerked his hand away as his fingers made contact with the familiar raised skin. The memory of what had happened the night his parents died had always been locked inside him, and he finally knew what happened.

"I 'eard some screamin' from in 'ere, and figured I should come check. You scared the jibblies outta me, boy. Reminded me o'the night your parents died," Mr. Erevander said, standing up and rubbing his temples. "You alright now?"

"I...I think so," Harry said, pulling himself up. His knees were still weak, but they supported him.

"Looked like you were having some kind o'fit or something like that. You need a doctor?" Mr. Erevander looked concerned.

"No. I should be fine," Harry said, looking around. The haze was gone, and now all he saw was a broken down nursery with a broken window. Whatever had happened seemed to have unlocked all of his pent-up memories, and while he was exhausted, his mind was clear. He looked up at Mr. Erevander.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I worried you - it shouldn't happen again. Thanks for coming to check on me, sir" he said, his voice steady. The older man eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, if y'need anything, I'm jus' next door. Don' be a stranger," he replied, turning back to the stairs. Harry followed him to the door.

"Take care o'yourself, sonny. We don't need more people to bury," he said as Harry bid him goodbye. Harry watched him walk away, then a thought struck him.

"Mr. Erevander!" He called, jogging over to him. "Er, where is the cemetery? I'd like to, y'know, visit my parents while I'm here," Harry said apprehensively. The older man gave him a sad smile.

"It's just to the north o'town, behind the old church. Y'can't miss it in the daytime," he said kindly. Harry smiled his thanks, and the man returned to his house.

It was late in the evening, but sleep was the furthest thing from Harry's mind. He set himself to cleaning the dust-covered furniture of the living room and repairing the broken down appliances in the kitchen. While it had been left abandoned for longer than Grimmauld place, the entire house seemed as if it had been magically sealed, preserved in the state it had been in 16 years previously. No unwanted animals had moved in, leaving the furniture in good condition. Perhaps it was because he could use magic, but in no time the entire ground floor had been cleaned and repaired, and Harry had collapsed onto the couch for a fitful sleep.

The morning came far too soon, and Harry was still haunted by the memories that had plagued him the night before. He threw open his trunk and pulled out a set of muggle clothing, his plans for the day set. Dressing distractedly, he carefully sealed the house and made his way to the church Mr. Erevander had described. He found it all too easily, though he had done his best to walk slowly and take in the sights of the town. A rusted iron steeple loomed over the town almost menacingly, but Harry was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. A wrought iron fence surrounded the cemetery, with a broken gate just to the side of the church. He walked through it, the same haze that had fogged his mind the night before returning. His feet led him through the numerous graves, some so old that the inscriptions had been worn off by weather and time. They didn't interest him. He walked determinedly towards a set of graves he had never seen, yet he knew what they would say once he got there. The graves were small and plain, only stating his parents names, their birth dates and the dates of their deaths. He read them over and over, and the haze disappeared. His head cleared, and he sat on the ground and thought about what he needed to do.

"I need to find the other horcruxes. I know I have everything I need. Dumbledore made sure of that. I'll be able to do it. I need to get Ron and Hermione to help me find ways to defeat Voldemort. Those books my parents had...they have to be important. They wouldn't have kept them in the vault otherwise. I have to ask for help. Not from the Order...we need to keep this from the Order. I can probably ask Lupin for help, though. If I need it. I need Ron and Hermione...we'll get more done if we're all together. I don't want to pull them out of school, though...not if everything's going well. I'll contact them, find out how things are going."

Thoughts continued to fly through his head at an alarming rate, and he sat in the cemetery for hours until his empty stomach began to protest. The sun hung high in the sky, all the remnants of the morning mist burnt away. Harry stood, his knees popping and aching from being stuck in one position for so long, and quickly hurried back to his parents' house. He finally understood what Dumbledore meant about his head being so full of thoughts, and was eager to clear his mind and eat. He was practically running as he slipped his wand out of his pocket and muttered the spell to take down the wards he had placed on the house. Bursting through the door and slightly out of breath, he bent over his trunk and dug out Dumbledore's Pensieve. He watched the swirling thoughts for a moment, mesmerized, then placed his wand to his temple. He thought of all the events he could spare, the ones he didn't want Voldemort seeing, the images he could do without, and finally focused on one - Bill's wedding. It was a lovely event, but he didn't need it clogging his thoughts now. He felt an intense coldness where his wand touched his temple, and pulling it away, he saw the silvery-white strand of his memory emerging from the tip. It was the most curious feeling, as if part of his brain was being sucked out of his head, but it offered such a sense of relief once the memory was out. It dropped gracefully into the swirling pool, and Harry watched as it sunk in with the rest of Dumbledore's memories. He returned the wand to his head, and focused on more of the memories he wanted to put into the Pensieve. Ginny's face appeared, bright and vibrant. With a pang of sadness, Harry realized that he had to take out his memories of Ginny. If Voldemort knew about her, knew about how he felt about her, she would be in grave danger. He spent an almost an hour remembering every bit of Ginny he could, and emptying those thoughts into the Pensieve. He finally came across the memory of their first kiss, but couldn't bear to part with it. "I'll keep just this one. Just this one," he said to himself as he shut the Pensieve back into its case.

His stomach was protesting even louder now, almost aching with hunger. Harry dug through his trunk, but only found some Bertie Botts and three chocolate frogs. He ate them, but knew that he would have to buy food at some point. His stomach satiated and his head blissfully lighter, he went back to focusing on his plans. Unfortunately, though, the clarity he had felt at the cemetery had disappeared, and he kept hitting dead-ends as to how to do any of the things he had thought of. Sighing, he turned back to the Pensive, thinking that if he focused on something else, he'd be more refreshed afterwards. Ginny's face kept floating through his mind, and he plunged himself headfirst into the Pensive, jumping into the first memory of her that surfaced. It was of Bill's wedding.

It was still early in the evening, just after the ceremony. Harry saw himself talking with Luna and Neville, but was more focused on Ginny. She was sitting at a table with her family, gazing over at Harry, her expression a mixture of sadness and anger. She was so beautiful...Harry felt as though he could stare at her for hours. Yet Luna's floaty voice was echoing in his ears, and something she said suddenly made him focus all of his attention on her.

"...my mum was actually a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw's..."

Harry was such an idiot. He felt his arms on the sides of the Pensieve, and he forcefully pushed himself out, dashing to his trunk for some parchment and a quill. All this time he had thought that he was going into this horcrux hunt blind, unsure of who could help him find the final, unknown horcrux. Had he just been willing to ask for help, willing to realize that he couldn't do this alone, he wouldn't have taken so long to realize that Luna was a Ravenclaw, and of course she would know the history of her house. He needed to talk to her - to talk to all of his friends at Hogwarts. He had thrown have of the contents of his trunk to the floor when he heard a sharp tapping on the window and sprang up, his wand at the ready. Outside, he saw a very disgruntled Hedwig.

"Hedwig! I was wondering when you'd get here!" Harry said, letting her in. She ignored him completely and flew to her cage, where she immediately began pecking at her empty food dish. He jumped up and filled it with owl treats, then refilled her water. After a few moments and a few mouthfuls of food and water, she seemed to have calmed down.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going, but I knew you'd find me," Harry said consolingly, scratching her head. She fluttered to his shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately, then returned to her cage to sleep. He finally found his parchment and started a letter to Ron and Hermione.

"Dear Ron and Hermione,

I hope everything is going well for you. I'm at my parents place in Godric's Hollow, and being here has really helped me think about what we have to do. We've got a lot. I've got some pretty good ideas on what we need to do, and I'll need you here soon. Don't come right away - go to Hogwarts first, and then we'll see how things go. There's a lot you can do while you're there, so don't feel like I'm leaving you out. I have to admit I feel a bit lost without you, but being here has helped. I have loads to tell you, but I don't want to send it in a letter. Let me know how things are going.

-Harry"

He didn't want to wake Hedwig just yet and send her on another journey, so he started cleaning the upstairs areas. He focused on cleaning the bedrooms, hoping to have a more comfortable place to sleep than the lumpy couch. He finally called it quits when the sun was sinking below the horizon, and he sent Hedwig off with his letter to his friends. She seemed eager to actually have something to do, even though she had just been on a long flight. Harry watched her disappear into the darkening sky, then returned to the Pensieve. He had told himself that he would use it to figure out more clues to the horcruxes, but Ginny's face kept swimming to the silvery surface.