Harry Potter and the Headmaster's Pensieve

Chapter 8 - The First Clue

Harry appeared on the steps of the dismal house in a sea of brilliant sunlight. He looked frantically around, but the street was completely devoid of people. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, he walked up to the weather-worn door and examined it. He had not received a key or instructions on how to enter his inherited home, and his mind was racing with panic that he had overlooked this problem. He didn't know what wards had been placed on the house, or what would happen if he tried to force his way in. Grimacing, he reached for the intricate wrought-iron door handle, and the door swung open as soon as he touched it. Harry swallowed, unsure if the house had simply accepted him because he was its rightful owner or if there was someone lurking just out of sight in the dark hallway. His eyes darted to the street again, curious if the neighbors could now see him standing on the dreary doorstep, and decided to not risk being seen. Sucking in his breath he walked purposefully into the house, pulling the door shut behind him.

The house was dark, silent, and smelled as though all the work he and his friends had done in the summer before his fifth year had been reversed. He pulled out his wand and lit it with a wave, careful to keep the beam away from the thick curtains that shielded Sirius's mother from view. There was something unnerving about the silence, but he preferred it over the shrieks of the portrait. He tiptoed past the curtains into the dusty parlor, where the stately fireplace was dark and covered with dust. He knelt beside it and cast a silent incendio to the hearth, and the room was suddenly filled with bright, crackling light. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, still uneasy in the quiet of the house. In all his time spent in it there had always been noise; creaking of floorboards, Kreacher's labored breaths as he scuffled around the house, but the complete sound of nothingness put Harry on edge. It was if he was being watched, as if the house itself was studying his every move. Shaking his head, he grabbed a fistful of floo powder from the jar on the mantle and shouted "Godric's Hollow!" as he threw it into the dancing flames. They flashed a brilliant emerald green as he stepped into the fireplace. He felt himself spinning at a sickening pace, and he landed with a thud at Ron's feet.

"It works, then?" Ron asked as he pulled Harry upright. Harry nodded, brushing off the soot and straightening his glasses.

"It's strange, though. The house is so silent...never noticed it to be so deathly quiet in there before. Guess we were always there with other members of the Order," Harry said, his voice tinged with discomfort. Hermione looked concerned, but Ron just shrugged.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, mate. I'd be more worried if you did here people poking about in the house."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. We'll, let's get going - I don't want to spend any more time there than we have to," Harry said, grabbing the pot of floo powder and holding it out for everyone to take. Neville seemed confused, but followed suit when Ron tossed his powder into the flames and shouted "Number 12 Grimmauld Place." Harry waited for Luna and Hermione to disappear into the flames before checking over the house one more time, then entering the fireplace once again.

His friends stood huddled around the fire, brushing the bits of soot off of their clothes and talking in hushed voices. Hermione shot him a relieved look when she saw that he arrived.

"Harry, you're right. This house is a bit unnerving without the Order here," she said, wringing her hands. "Do you think anyone else might be here? Bellatrix, or someone like that?"

"Let's hope not. Now, I'm not sure what we should look for, but I don't want to waste time. We'll get more done if we split up. Hermione, take Luna and go into the sitting room in the back, with the china closet. See if there's anything useful there. Neville, Ron and I will look upstairs in the master bedroom - I've never been in there, so I don't know what could be hiding there. Be careful near Mrs. Black's portrait. I don't want to have to spend time quieting her when there's a lot more we could be doing," Harry instructed. Hermione didn't seem terribly happy that she was paired up with Luna, but she didn't say anything. They tiptoed into the hallway, past the heavily curtained portrait, to the base of the staircase. Harry motioned for Ron and Neville to head up, and he looked around at the house once more before climbing the stairs. He still felt as if someone was watching him, but he shook it off and continued up.

The master bedroom was at the end of the long corridor of bedrooms. The darkness and the closed doors reminded him of his dreams in his fifth year, but everything in this house seemed to remind him of that year. When he was away it was easy to forget that Sirius was gone, easy to imagine that he was just holed up in his own prison, but still around if Harry needed help. When Harry was here, though, Sirius's absence was painfully evident. They had made their way to the large bedroom, and there were no traces of anyone living there. The bed had been stripped of sheets, the closet was bare, and all of the rat carcasses from Buckbeak's meals had disappeared. Harry figured that Mrs. Weasley had taken the time to clean it after Sirius had died, so Harry wouldn't have to deal with it.

He, Ron and Neville started going through the chests of drawers on the wall opposite the bed. They were dusty, damp, and empty. Frustrated, Harry moved into the closet, peering up to the higher shelves. They were bare, except for the infestation of doxies in the corners of the higher shelves. He had just placed a food on the lowest shelf, intending to climb to the topmost shelves, but he was interrupted by a yell from below.

"Harry! You need to see this!" Hermione's voice called from below. For a heartstopping moment everyone seemed to wait for Mrs. Black's portrait to start screaming, but surprisingly it didn't. Then the three men dashed out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and only slowed their pace as they approached the portrait. Once they were safely past it, they started running once more, Harry almost colliding with Luna as she stood in front of the china closet. Hermione was kneeling in front of something on the wall, staring at something near the floor. When she heard them arrive, she jumped up and grabbed Harry's arm, nearly dragging him to the wall. She had been inspecting the Black family tree, and was now furtively pointing at the name beside the small hole where Sirius's name had been.

"It's Regulus's name. So?" Harry asked, confused.

"No...read it, Harry," she said, tugging him closer. He tumbled onto his knees, nearly crashing his head into the wall. He straightened his glasses and peered at the thin gold thread.

"Regulus Arcturus Black. 1961 to 1979. Wait...Arcturus! RAB!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up and embracing Hermione. She giggled, but almost instantly pulled away and retreated to the gap between Ron and Luna. Harry turned to his friends.

"RAB must have been Regulus. But that means that the locket should be here!" Harry said, rushing towards the china closet. A few trinkets remained, broken and cast into the corners of each shelf. A sweep of dust, nearly a foot wide, was missing from every shelf, leaving the center of the shelves much clearer than the dusty edges. It appeared as if someone had come by and taken the remaining contents of the closet in a hurry. He grimaced.

"Mundungus," he spat bitterly. "He came here and stole all of the Black's heirlooms. The locket's probably long gone by now."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Harry looked as if he were on the verge of breaking something, which seemed to frighten Neville. Ron and Hermione were sending each other confused looks, while Luna crawled onto the floor to look under the couch.

"It might have fallen under here," she said, her voice muffled by the dusty cushions. "Here's something! Oh wait, I think it's just a dead puffskein." Harry slumped into one of the chairs.

"We could always go to the Order and see if Mundungus remembers who he sold it to, and we can see if we can get it back," Ron said. Hermione was deep in thought, but her eyes lit up once again

.

"Kreacher! Remember, he kept hiding the stuff that Sirius was trying to get rid of! Maybe the locket's there!" she said hurriedly. She ran towards the kitchen, and Ron followed. Harry grimaced as they ran right past the covered portrait, their sneakers thumping heavily on the dusty wooden floor. Harry was sure that Mrs. Black would start screaming any second, but surprisingly she didn't. Neville helped Luna to her feet again, and the three followed the sound of Ron and Hermione's voices to Kreacher's small den. It sounded as if they were digging through a bag, but Harry tried not to get his hopes up.

His friends moved aside to allow him into the tiny excuse for a room. It smelled just as foul as the rest of the house, but the air was hot and stale from the lack of circulation. The blanket Hermione had given to Kreacher had been unceremoniously shoved underneath the pile of rags the elf had used for a bed, and a large pile of trinkets was dumped onto the rags. Harry scanned the pile, then dropped to his knees and began sorting through it. He found many of the dangerous items they had been all too happy to get rid of, but there was no sign of the locket. Luna had edged her way to his side, curious as to what was going on. Harry caught sight of a small black book, and reached for it. A tarnished, spindly instrument jumped towards his hand, but Luna caught it before it made contact. She began examining it as Harry looked at the cover of the book.

"It looks like a journal," Neville said from behind him.

"Better be careful, you don't want to end up like Ginny," Ron warned. Harry nodded absentmindedly, studying the cover. It was a simple, fine black leather, but worn from years of use. The binding had the letters RAB embossed in shining silver. Harry flipped open the journal, and to his relief found page after page of scrawled handwriting. He hastily pulled the note from locket out of his pocket, and compared the writing.

"It's the same!" he said, grinning. The entries started in the middle of 1976, but Harry flipped to the end, in October of 1979.

October 10^th, 1979

I overheard Bella speaking with Riddle about a locket. He said that he wished me to place it in its proper place, and if I succeeded, he would fully take me into his confidences. Bella is to take me somewhere to place this locket wherever it is it needs to be placed. We're to go on the 20^th, the day of the new moon. The cover of dark will protect us from any prying eyes, he said. I'm almost positive that that the locket is a horcrux. Severus hinted as much, and from the investigating I'd done before, I wouldn't be surprised. All he cares about is power and immortality. He doesn't care at all about the purity of the wizarding world, doesn't care at all about the muggles that are a threat to our way of life. He uses us all, and people like Bella fall for it. Willingly. Perhaps Sirius had the right idea. Perhaps he was right in that the true purebloods have no clue as to how to keep our noble race strong, but I do. And it's certainly no way that our so-called "Dark Lord" has planned. He does not care for the greater good of the wizarding world, and he must be stopped. I'll bring a decoy locket...I just hope it doesn't appear too different than the one Riddle has. I'll destroy the horcrux. Riddle must be stopped. He will destroy us all if he continues on the path he is walking, and he'll have no qualms doing it.

October 20^th, 1979

It is done. Bella saw me, knew what I'd done. She didn't stop me. I don't think she realizes what it was we were supposed to be hiding. She'll tell him, I know she will. She was looking at me with that crazy glare she often gets when she knows what she has to tell the Dark Lord will please him. But I have the horcrux, hidden in my parents' house, and I will find out how to destroy it. He must be stopped, and I am the only one who can do this.

The rest of the pages were blank. Harry could only imagine that he'd been killed soon after. He flipped to an earlier page, when he was distracted by a shrill yelp from Luna - the silver gadget she had been examining had poked her with one of its sharp spindles. Neville rushed to her side and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapping it snuggly around her punctured finger. It was still bleeding rather heavily, but the cloth soaked up most of the blood. Harry grabbed the contraption out of Luna's uninjured had and tossed it to the floor, smashing it under his foot. They group looked at each other, relieved, until they heard floorboards creaking just outside the kitchen.

"Well, if it isn't the little baby Potter!" a heavy-lidded woman said in a thick French accent as she stepped towards them, her wand held out menacingly.

"Bellatrix! How did you get in here?" Harry shouted, fumbling to hold his grasp on the journal and pull out his wand.

"My dear auntie came to our portrait and told me you were here, baby Potter. But no matter, I'll rid my ancestor's house of you in no time," she said, shooting a flash of red sparks in his direction. He dodged and just missed it, but he could see that even with five people, they were in a sad state of affairs. Ron and Hermione had almost identical looks of disbelief on their faces, while Luna was apparently attempting to perform some sort of complicated hex on Bellatrix by spinning her wand in circles and throwing the dead puffskein towards her attacker, missing her entirely. Harry was still fumbling with his wand when Neville roughly pushed past him.

"STUPEFY!" Neville shouted at her, his new wand sending a ferocious bolt of bright red light squarely at Bellatrix's chest. Bellatrix, not expecting it, crumpled to the floor instantly. With that Harry sprang to action, tugging at Ron and Hermione and leading everyone out of the house. He stuffed the journal securely into his pocket and quickly turned back to everyone as they emerged into the bright sunlight.

"Apparate to the Burrow!" he called to them, and both Ron and Hermione did so instantly. Harry was only vaguely aware of Luna wrapping and arm around Neville as he himself apparated to his best friend's childhood home.

They arrived on the lawn outside the ramshackle house, sprawled out on the grass and breathing heavily with fright. Within moments Mrs. Weasley had rushed out of the house, wand raised.

"Ron? Ron, Hermione, is that you? Oh dear, Harry! All of you, come inside this instant!"

They dragged themselves into the house, still amazed that they had escaped from Grimmauld Place alive. Mrs. Weasley was busy filling plates with meatballs and potatoes as the five collapsed into kitchen chairs, other Order members peeking in with wide eyes to find the source of the commotion. After a few moments to catch his breath, Harry turned to the small crowd of people standing in the kitchen, gawking. His eyes moved from face to face, and narrowing when they landed on one dirty, thieving set of eyes.

"Mundungus," Harry growled. Mundungus let out an involuntary yelp and attempted to edge away from the kitchen, but Shaklebolt stood right behind him and clamped a hand on his shoulder, eyeing him warily.

"Y-yes, Harry?" Mundungus asked, his voice a full octave higher than usual.

"I believe you have some of my things, some of the heirlooms I inherited from my godfather. Now I know you've been selling them, but there's one piece in particular I've been looking for, and I would appreciate it if I could get it back from you," Harry said, rising from his chair and starting towards Mundungus.

"I haven't - I would never - I mean, I couldn't know - er, what are you looking for?" the man replied, shrinking back into Shaklebolt as Harry approached. Shaklebolt pushed him forward, and he nearly collided with Harry.

"A locket. A large, gold locket with the letter S inscribed in it. It's quite distinctive, I think you'd remember if you'd sold it. Now, do you remember selling a piece like that?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.

"I, er, well, I don't quite remem-" Mundungus started, but Harry grabbed Mundungus by the neck of his dirty, threadbare jacket and shook him.

"Don't lie to me, Dung! I know you took it, and I need to get it back. Who did you sell it to? Tell me!" Harry yelled, his icy demeanor overtaken by the raw emotion of all that he'd been through in the past day. The members standing around the pair backed up a step as Harry's voice rose.

"Harry, please calm down. I'm sure Mundungus will help you in any way he can, once he's not in danger of wetting himself," Lupin's voice sounded behind Harry. "Why not just let go of him, and he'll show you what's stashed in his room? He's been living here, so I can't imagine what you're looking for could be anywhere else."

Harry reluctantly let go of Mundungus, and the older man fidgeted nervously as he straightened out his jacket. He avoided Harry's eyes, but quietly muttered "alright then, let's go look. But I can't promise you anything - I may have already sold it."

Instantly Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna were by Harry's side and Mundungus led them up the stairs to Percy's old room. It was a mess, covered in piles of filthy clothes and stolen wares, but Mundungus seemed to know exactly where things were. He pulled a large linen bag from the closet and tossed it at Harry's feet.

"I tell you, nothing in there's gonna be worth more than whatever gold Sirius left ya, so don't be thinking you'll make a fortune outta whatever you find. Haven't had much luck selling any of it m'self, but I think Dumbledore might've put a hex on me so that no one'd see me if I was selling these trinkets. Course, I shouldn't be sayin that about a dead man, but I'd bet it's the truth, I would. But there's nothin' o' any use in there - if there was, I'd o' handed it over to the Order, o' course," Mundungus muttered, but the group wasn't listening to him. They had torn open the bag and were feverently sifting through the contents, praying that the large gold locket would materialize in front of them.

"Course, I could've sold it, too. Them Blacks had lotsa jewels, can't keep track o' them all. It'd be pretty easy to find if that were the case...only a few people have bought any of this stuff off o' me, and I should be able to remember. Course, they won't be too happy parting with their newly acquired goods, so I'd imagine they'd want some sorta payment for the trouble, y'know?" Mundungus rambled on, his voice still twittering with fear.

"Dung, you're not helping any," Harry said darkly, his voice sending Mundungus nearly tripping over himself as he dashed out of the room. Finally alone, Harry sent a relieved look to all of his friends.

"That was close," Ron muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

"Too close," Hermione echoed, gazing at the floor.

"That was some impressive wandwork, Neville! Without you, we would have been, well, quite worse off," Harry said, sending Neville a grateful smile. Neville blushed slightly.

"Well, I learned a lot in the D.A. I wish you would've kept up with it," Neville replied, a bit bashfully.

"Oooh, me too. It was wonderful," Luna said absently, her eyes drifting through the pile of stolen goods.

"That was bloody fantastic, Neville," Ron piped in, beaming at him. Neville smiled in response.

"Hey, is this what we're looking for?" Luna asked, holding out a heavy golden locket on a fine gold chain. Harry stared at it for a moment, mesmerized, before snatching it out of her hand and carefully studying the engraving.

"It's...I can't believe it...he didn't sell it...it's Slytherin's locket!" he gasped, throwing his arms around Luna. She giggled a bit uncomfortably, and he relinquished his hold. Harry studied the locket once more, then passed it around for everyone else to see.

"So, you're sure that this, I mean, it's really a horcrux?" Ron asked, holding it carefully by the chain.

"I...I remember this! This is the locket we couldn't open!" Hermione exclaimed, snatching it out of Ron's hands. She pried her fingernails between the two halves, but she couldn't pry them apart. "It must be a horcrux!" She passed it on to Neville.

"So, er, how are we going to destroy it?" he asked, passing it back to Harry. Harry's eyes lingered on it once more.

"I, well, I haven't figured that part out yet," Harry said, still gazing at the intricate engraving. Luna reached for the locket, and Harry dropped it willingly into her hands. She examined the hinge connecting the two halves, then flipped it over and shook it

.

"I bet if we open it, it'll destroy it," she said.

"Yes, well, how do you propose we open it?" Hermione asked, a touch of impatience in her voice.

"I don't know. Maybe we can ask some of the Order members for help," Luna replied, sending Hermione the most focused stare Harry had ever seen her use. "I don't see anyone else coming up with any ideas," Luna added. Hermione gulped, then turned her attention to the locket.

"I don't want too many people involved...maybe I'll ask Lupin," Harry said softly, taking the locket from the two feuding girls. He remembered Lupin's letter from his birthday, as well as the way he stood up for Harry, and he felt as if he could trust him. He slipped it into his pocket and stood, leading the group out of the crowded, messy room. Mundungus was leaning against the wall as they exited, and Harry turned to him.

"Keep the rest. I'd bet you need the money more than I do, anyway," Harry said to him. They made their way downstairs, where the entire Order was lounging in the living room, waiting to see if Harry would emerge victorious.

"Did you get what you were looking for, then?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Harry nodded, and Mrs. Weasley's face lit up. She walked to Harry's side and ushered him onto the couch. "I hope you cleaned that thieving old rat out of everything he stole," she whispered as he sat down. His friends followed him into the room, which was now quite cramped. Ron and Harry exchanged a look, and that seemed to be the cue for everyone else to leave. Harry looked up quickly at Lupin, and he lagged back. Mrs. Weasley had remained on the couch next to Harry, but jumped up and followed the crowd as they filtered out. Lupin replaced her on the seat next to him.

"So, what is it that you were looking for?" he asked mildly.

"Well, this," Harry said, removing the locket from his pocket and passing it to his former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Lupin studied the engraving for a moment before trying to open it.

"And this will help you defeat Voldemort?" he asked.

"Well, destroying it will. I just don't know how to destroy it," Harry replied. Lupin studied the locket a bit more before handing it back to Harry.

"If there's one thing I've learned about Voldemort, it's that he always wanted to live up to his name. From what I've heard from Dumbledore, Tom Riddle always felt he was far more logical than any other wizards he knew, and would try to use that to his advantage. So try to approach this as a puzzle, not as a dark object. Now, what is a locket used for?"

Harry thought on this for a moment. "To hold pictures?" he asked.

"It could be that, but I suspect he was looking at it as more of something that could conceal secrets. Secret loves are often hidden in lockets, or a past that the bearer may wish to hide. Can you think of a spell that might expose such a secret?" Lupin prodded.

"Oh! Harry, try acclaroveritas! It's supposed reveal the truth about any object, if it's disguised to be something else!" Hermione said, bobbing up and down as if she were answering a question from Professor Flitwick. Harry grinned at her, then pointed his wand at the locket.

"Acclaroveritas!" he said, and the locket exploded open with such force that everyone was sent to the floor. An inky black wisp of smoke lingered in the air where the explosion had occurred, then spread and faded in the air above them.

"Wow," Luna said, pulling herself up. Ron had helped Hermione up, and was picking a bit of lint out of her frizzy hair. Harry collected the two halves of the locket, now very much apart, and looked at them. Inside he saw the portraits of two people he had only seen in memories - Voldemort's mother and father. He slipped the destroyed horcrux into his pocket and stood up. Lupin held out his hand to Harry.

"You should come by more often - Molly enjoys seeing you so much."

"I...well, thank you, Remus. I'll stop by as often as I can," Harry said, but he could see the disbelieving smile forming on the older man's face.

"You should probably go. If you stay too long, I'd bet Molly will kick us all out and force you to stay here again," Lupin said. Harry nodded and made his way to the kitchen. Most of the Order members had already left, and it appeared as though Mrs. Weasley had been eavesdropping under the ruse of tidying things up.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Weasley. We were in something of a tight spot...thanks for taking us in," Harry said.

"Oh rubbish, dear. You know you're always welcome here. Now, you take care, and don't be a stranger," she said, her voice a bit weepy. She hugged Harry and Hermione, then planted a kiss on Ron's cheek. They made their way outside, and Harry instructed everyone to return to Godric's Hollow. He looked up at the Burrow, and saw Ginny's face in one of the upper windows. He waved and sent her a sad smile, then apparated away.