Harry Potter and the Headmaster's Pensieve

Chapter 9 - The Missing Piece

Back at Godric's Hollow, it was clear that everyone was exhausted. Harry sent Neville home with "Deciphering Death," "Realms of Magic," and "The Magic of Time," telling him to specifically look up the importance of a soul. Luna got explicit instructions to find out about any heirlooms of Ravenclaw's that may have gone mysteriously missing. Ron and Hermione had collapsed together on the couch, looking up at Harry with tired eyes. Harry gratefully dropped into the faded armchair and rubbed his eyes.

"Hermione, I think we'd better figure out how to do a Fidelus charm on this place. I wouldn't be surprised if Bellatrix tells Voldemort that we've been snooping around, and that'll only renew their efforts to find me. But I can't fight him yet...even if I knew how to kill him, I need to destroy all of the horcruxes first," Harry said after a few moments. His head was still spinning from all that had happened, but he finally felt as if he had accomplished part of his task - he had destroyed the horcrux that Dumbledore had risked his life for. Now there were only three horcruxes left, along with whatever scrap of soul Voldemort still held in his body. Hufflepuff's cup, Nagini, and...something of Ravenclaw's. Or Gryffindor's. Harry closed his eyes, still a bit overwhelmed at the task Dumbledore had set for him. He must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes again, Ron and Hermione were stretched out together on the couch, fast asleep. He stood and stretched the sore muscles in his back, then slipped Regulus's journal from his pocket. The slim tome held so much promise, but Harry opened it cautiously. He didn't want to get his hopes up, only to have them crushed if it held no information whatsoever. The first entry was a few pages in, dated June 3^rd, 1979.

I took the mark last night. After all the years of waiting, all the miserable hours spent at Hogwarts under that Muggle-loving Headmaster, I'm finally among people that share my beliefs. There are so many of us! I know we will be able to restore the Wizarding community to its former glory, instead of letting the mudbloods and Muggle-lovers hide us from the rest of the world, worried that we might "frighten" the Muggles. Our society has been pushed down so far that we can't even compete with them technologically anymore! The widely accepted ideas of technology in our world are hundreds, if not thousands of years old. Muggles don't use quills, they don't use candlelight - if we stopped hiding ourselves from the Muggles and dominated over them as I know we could, we would soon incorporate their own advances into our magic, and we'd be unstoppable. The Dark Lord seems to realize this, seems to realize that the only way we can exist as a society is if we destroy those who would destroy us. And the Muggles would. They would fear us, and in all of history, Muggles have tried to destroy that which they fear. The purebloods will rise again under the Dark Lord's swift and steady hand.

Harry read the entry, amazed that anyone could truly believe that destroying all Muggles was a good idea. It shocked him to realize that Regulus had only been in the Death Eater ranks for four months before betraying them, and he couldn't see how the praise for Voldemort could have turned so sour so quickly. He flipped through a few more pages, and settled on an entry in mid-August.

August 17^th, 1979

Bellatrix should learn to hold her tongue at family functions. The celebrations for her parents' anniversary were opulent and loud, as usual, but her voice seemed mask all the festivies as she spoke of the Dark Lord's task for her. I did not hear it all, but from what I gather, she's to protect something of great importance to the Dark Lord. I heard her mention a golden cup and our Lord's grandparents' house, but I tried to ignore her. She doesn't make it easy. She seems to think that since we are cousins she has some claim to me, that I am her personal lapdog. I would try to discourage this, but she is so close to the Dark Lord that it may be beneficial to allow her to think such things.

The Dark Lord puzzles me. He preaches for the purebloods, but that does not seem to be his main goal. True, he approves of the torturing of Muggles, but he seems to allow it for only the amusement of his Death Eaters, in order to keep them happy. His main goal seems to be power - power and immortality. I know that he longs for us to be free of the bind that the ministry has placed on us, but is it for our benefit or his own?

I should not think such things. Our Lord has powers that I know nothing of, and I know that if he knew my thoughts, I'd be dead by morning. Our Lord is great, and he will not let us down.

Harry studied the first paragraph, hardly able to believe his luck. The golden cup mentioned must be Hufflepuff's cup! And Voldemort's grandparents' house...it had to be in Little Hangleton, where Voldemort's mother had lived. Thoughts of how to get there and what was necessary were buzzing through his head, but he creased the page and closed his eyes. He needed rest if he was going to explain this to his friends in the morning. The journal dropped to his lap, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

The smell of sausages cooking on the stove pulled Harry out of his sleep, and he saw Hermione cooking breakfast in the kitchen. Ron was still asleep on the couch, snoring slightly. Harry stretched and walked over to Hermione. She grinned at him as he examined the food.

"I was up early and I took a walk, and the Muggle grocery was open. I bought us some food so we wouldn't have to cause any more of a disturbance by using magic," she explained.

"Thanks Hermione. Though I think if we can figure out the Fidelus charm, it won't matter if we use magic," Harry replied.

"Well, yes, but for now it's good to keep a low profile, especially in a Muggle town like this. And if Luna's going to keep 'helping' us, we should really try to not have her breaking any ministry rules," Hermione said, her dislike for Luna obvious. Harry gritted his teeth.

"I know you think her ideas are a little out there, but give her a chance. I'm sure she's a Ravenclaw for something," Harry said pleadingly. Hermione snorted.

"She's a Ravenclaw because she's a direct descendant of Rowena. Personally, I don't think she's got an ounce of common sense, and she's going to get us in trouble," she said.

"A lot of things could get us in trouble. She wants to help, and I think she can. Stop giving her a hard time...we've got enough troubles as it is. Now, can you do some research on the Fidelus charm today?" Harry said sternly. Hermione pursed her lips and nodded. Ron stirred on the couch and sniffed.

"Five more minutes, Mum," he muttered, sending Hermione into a fit of giggles. The noise seemed to fully rouse Ron, and he sat up quickly.

"What's going on? What's that smell?" he asked hurriedly, rubbing his eyes.

"Hermione's making us breakfast, and then we're going to do some research," Harry told him. Ron got up and made his way into the kitchen, and Hermione brought two large frying pans filled with scrambled eggs and sausages to the table. Neville arrived just as the three sat down to eat, and Hermione offered him a plate. He picked at his food for a moment before looking up at Harry.

"Luna sent me a letter saying she'd be here later," he started, fidgeting. Harry nodded at him, curious. Neville wasn't the type to fidget unless there was something he needed to get off his chest, and Harry suspected that something was wrong.

"I, er, well, I read through the books you gave me," Neville said, pushing half a sausage across his plate. "I read some stuff that might be helpful, but it doesn't sound good."

"Like what?" Harry asked eagerly, his fork clattering to his plate. Hermione and Ron had focused their attention on Neville, too. Neville pulled out "Realms of Magic" and flipped to a page he had marked with a piece of parchment. He passed the book to Hermione.

"The often pondered question among wizards and ghosts alike is 'where do souls go once a person dies?' The biblical answer would of course be Heaven, but there is no proof that such a place truly exists. Wizards have found, through extensive and dangerous research, that once a soul is freed from its body, it travels to what has been named the Realm of Souls, where it will (hypothetically) linger for all eternity. It has been shown that in the past Wizards and Witches have been able to detach their soul from their living body to enter this realm, but most occurrences led to the ultimate destruction of the soul," Hermione recited from the page. She looked up at Harry, ashen-faced.

"Well, that doesn't sound like the best way to destroy Voldemort, not if you'll destroy your soul, too," Ron said.

"Well, if we could convince Voldemort to enter the realm and figure out how a soul is destroyed, it might be worth it," Harry said. Ron and Neville gaped at him, but Hermione was skimming through the information about the realm, her eyes flying over the pages.

"Well, they're certainly not very informative, are they," she muttered, flipping the pages. "Undisclosed ancient magic...more research must be done...the transfer of powers into the realm is unknown...it's got promise, Harry, but I wouldn't do anything drastic until we do a bit more research ourselves," she said. Harry looked down at his plate, suddenly losing his appetite. He wanted to destroy Voldemort, but was it worth destroying his own soul in the process? He'd be worse than dead - he wouldn't even exist. He'd never see his friends again...never see Ginny again...but he'd be able to destroy Voldemort completely. It might be worth it.

"'Mione, maybe we should research that stuff on the Fidelus charm, now," Ron said tentatively. Hermione nodded, eager to change the subject. With a wave of her wand and a mutter of "Scourgify," Hermione cleared the table and made her way to the living room, where all of her books were stacked neatly on the coffee table. Harry stared down at his now empty plate, aware of Neville's eyes on him.

"Don't do it, Harry. It's not worth it," Neville said quietly. Harry sent him a small smile.

"Well, I can't do anything now. I'll have to find the rest of the horcruxes first and destroy them, before I could even take on Voldemort, so I think we have some time. But if I have to give my life to make sure that Voldemort is truly gone, I will. It is worth it."

"Harry, it's not just your life! It's your soul...your being. There are lots of people who'd be completely lost without you," Neville said. Harry's mind settled on Ginny again, and he thought of the pain he'd cause her if he died. He never wanted to hurt her, but who knows...maybe she'd be over him by then. He sighed, then wandered into the living room with Neville close behind. Ron and Hermione were immersed in an Advanced Charms book, sitting so close together that Neville easily fit on the couch with them. Harry dropped into the armchair. Regulus's journal was on the floor beside the chair, and he picked it up, opening it to the page he had creased the night before.

"I read some more of the journal last night," Harry said. Everyone looked at him. "I think I know where another of the horcruxes is. Regulus mentioned that Bellatrix was gloating about a task Voldemort gave to her - something about hiding a cup in his grandparents' house. I'm guessing that the cup is Hufflepuff's cup, which would certainly be a horcrux. And I'd bet that Voldemort's grandparents lived near to where his mother lived, so I could probably get there from the memories I have from Dumbledore."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Ron finally let out a breathy "wow" and everyone's eyes were suddenly on him.

"Y-you don't think that maybe that journal was planted in Grimmauld place to lead you on a wild goose chase? I mean, couldn't Bellatrix or someone like her have put it there?" Ron asked.

"I don't think so. Some of the things in the journal are very, well, they're not flattering towards Voldemort, and I don't think he'd let something like that stay intact for too long. And if Voldemort knew that the locket was at Grimmauld place, why would Dung have had it? Surely Voldemort would have taken it if he knew," Harry replied.

"But even if you know where it is, it's going to be really difficult to get it, right? I mean, the locket had lots of protections around it, didn't it?" Hermione asked.

"And how are the rest of us going to get there? You can't take us all there with side-along apparation," Neville added. Harry cradled his head in his hand for a moment, truly understand what Dumbledore meant when he said that his head was just too full of thoughts. And then it hit him - he still had the memories. He could use the pensieve to show everyone where it was. He rose from the chair.

"I'll use the pensieve. Give me a few minutes, and I'll bring it down," Harry said, his voice weary. He made his way up to the old nursery and fished out the handsome wooden box that held the pensieve, placing it on the bookshelf. He lifted the lid, hypnotized by the swirling memories in the stone basin. Without thinking he plunged his head in, and materialized into the memory of his last kiss with Ginny, at Bill's wedding. He watched as she brought his memory-self into a hug and he lowered his lips to hers, her face riddled with both pain and pleasure. Sadly Harry pulled himself out of the memory, knowing that he shouldn't be wasting time when his friends were waiting for him downstairs. He lifted his wand to his brow and extracted the memories of the cup and the research Neville had done, placing them both into the basin. Closing the lid, he carried the pensieve carefully down the stairs and placed it on the coffee table beside Hermione's books. Hermione had placed her charms book aside, and was looking at the box containing the pensieve eagerly. Harry flipped open the lid and concentrated on the memory he wanted, the memory from the ministry worker who came to claim Morfin and Marvolo. As Merope's face swirled to the surface, they plunged in.

Harry saw the familiar broken down house, saw the same snake nailed to the broken down door. He watched as the ministry official approach the house, and heard the low hiss of parseltongue attempting to frighten him off. Harry watched impassively as both Morfin and Marvolo taunted and harassed Merope, but he saw the looks of horror on his friends faces as Marvolo dragged Merope over to the ministry official by the neck and began strangling her when Morfin explained her infatuation with the Muggle. As the ministry official fled for his life, Harry gently pulled them all out of the pensieve.

Hermione was the first to speak after they left the memory. Her eyes were a bit glazed, and she seemed to be talking more to herself than anyone else.

"How could they live like that? How could they treat her so badly...and how could they be so cruel?" Her voice faded. Harry cleared his throat.

"I think if we can Apparate there, we'll be able to find Riddle's house. It can't be too far from there," he said. Neville looked a bit apprehensive, but Ron looked eager.

"Well, lets go! We should try to get rid of all these horcruxes as soon as possible!" he said excitedly. Harry shook his head.

"We'll need to do some planning first. The locket was easy because it was already free of the precautions Voldemort set up...what Dumbledore and I went through to get the fake locket would have been impossible for me to do alone. We're going to have to figure out how to recognize where magic has been cast and we'll have to be able to see through the spells that Voldemort may have placed around the house. I can remember what Dumbledore did, but a lot of it was just stuff he'd learned over the years, and I don't know if I'll be able to follow his lead. It'll be dangerous...Voldemort had every intention of killing anyone who tried to get the horcruxes. We need to be careful. But I do agree with Ron, we need to find the horcruxes, and fast. If Voldemort realizes what we're doing, it's make our job much harder. Let's research for the rest of the day, then we'll regroup tomorrow and decide if we're ready to find the cup."

Ron, Neville and Harry each picked up books from the large pile of Hermione's NEWT textbooks and began to read. Hermione, having memorized the entire stack, flipped open "Medieval Magic" and began to read it. Harry was absorbed in an Advanced Transfiguration text, but snapped his head up when he heard Hermione let out a faint "Oh." He saw that her face was very pale and she was trembling slightly. He sent her a curious look, but when their eyes met, she just shook her head and returned to her reading. Her face continued to pale, but she wouldn't meet his eyes again. Harry returned to his reading, but was interrupted by the flames in the fireplace turning a rich emerald green. A moment later, Luna tumbled into the living room. She stood and brushed herself off.

"Sorry I'm late, but Daddy and I were busy," she said breathlessly, sitting on the arm of Harry's chair. "I asked him about any heirlooms that we might have had in the family that were directly from Rowena, and we were looking for anything like that," she said. Everyone looked at her expectantly, but she just picked a piece of lint off of her sleeve.

"Er, did you find anything?" Harry asked her. She turned to him, looking surprised.

"Yes," she replied, then began rummaging through the pockets of her robe. Everyone watched her expectantly, but when she straightened up, all she was holding was a faded wizard photograph. She handed it to Harry, who studied it. It was a picture of a woman who looked nearly identical to Luna, though her eyes were a shade darker. She was standing beside a man who shared Luna's constantly surprised expression, and they were both grinning uncomfortably. They were standing in front of a fireplace cluttered with numerous knickknacks that appeared to have collected decades worth of dust. Harry studied it, but nothing really struck him as possibly being a horcrux, especially if they were sitting unprotected on a mantle somewhere.

"The picture's a horcrux?" Ron asked tentatively, going to Harry's side to examine the picture.

"No, Ronald. The horcrux is in the picture, see?" Luna replied, pointing to one of the knickknacks just behind the woman. "These are my grandparents - my Mother's parents. They died five years before I was born, when my father was just beginning to court my mother. It appeared as though they'd been murdered by my grandfather's brother, who even admitted to the killings. My father helped my mother clean out the house after the funeral, and he remembered that this was the only thing missing - this pair of opera glasses," she explained. "My mother was heartbroken, because they'd been passed down for generations - Rowena definitely had them, and she passed them on."

Harry scrutinized the picture, staring at the tiny image of what appeared to be an ornately decorated pair of ancient opera glasses. A thrill of something he couldn't describe passed down Harry's spine, something between excitement and dread. True, he didn't know for certain if he was holding a picture of the final, unknown horcrux, but it was the first and only lead he had on it after months of searching. His mind was repeating the words Dumbledore had told him in his letter, that he should let his truest friends help him. He knew that Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna would follow him to the ends of the earth if that's where he needed to go, and in his gut he felt as though Luna was fulfilling her role now. She was the key to the final horcrux. The picture held almost no useful information, but it was a start.