Book of Memories

Chapter 19: SOME NEW HOPE

Being Saturday morning, they had plenty time to discuss everything. When Harry woke up, Ron thought he had finally gone insane as the uncontrollable, huge grin on Harry's face had not faded one tiny bit.

"What are you smiling about?" Ron asked. "Had a dream about Cho talking to friends, saying she wants to change to Gryffindor?"

"No," said Harry, giggling. But he didn't think that would be such a bad dream. "I'll explain after breakfast... It's really good news," he added, turning away from Ron and putting the Order of Merlin necklace on. He grabbed the plaque... just to test... just to see...

It did something. A small feeling of calmness washed over Harry. It was the beginning of the end. He could finally see an end to his immediate troubles.

"If you insist," said Ron.

After he finished eating (and he did so very quickly), Harry dashed out of the Great Hall, up to his dormitory, took out the three pieces of parchment in which he wrote down the conversation and ran back into the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione, who were barely halfway finished with their breakfast, suddenly lost their appetite when they got to the part about reviving Sirius.

"So you no longer hate Dumbledore?" Ron asked.

"I still hate Dumbledore," said Harry immediately. "He said Wormtail hasn't attempted to steal it, which he has..."

Ron's face became screwed up in thought. It was a question to which they would not find an answer to any time soon.

"But how?" said Hermione after she finished reading. "How can they revive Sirius if the book can't do it? That staff is just a legend, Harry."

"It exists," said Harry sharply. "Dumbledore spoke about it so confidently. Here, read that again," he added, pointing to the bit about reviving the dead.

Ron's eyes widened. Harry had said the magic words.

"This'll put us in textbooks, Hermione!" said Ron, hardly able to contain himself. "I'm convinced. Where and when do we start?"

Hermione gave an apprehensive sigh. She didn't look too pleased at having to search for something that supposedly doesn't exist. Harry didn't care for much for anything; it was the thought of seeing Sirius well again that helped him sneak into the Restricted Section of the library under the Invisibility Cloak that night. Ron and Hermione were with him and they agreed to spend a good few hours past midnight.

Potions class the next day did turned out to be interesting. Upon arriving to the dungeons, Professor Snape was not down there yet. Everyone waited several minutes before they heard footsteps coming down the corridor and then the door open with a bang.

"Potter, a word with you after class," said Snape quickly. His skin was paler than usual and there seemed to be more grease in his hair than usual. Something was up.

Class continued as normal... mostly. Professor Snape seemed to be avoiding Harry all period. Harry tried to hide that he knew what was coming. Ron and Hermione sniggered all through class and Snape took the opportunity to take three points from Gryffindor, one point for each time they managed to laugh out loud. Normally, Harry noticed, it might have been five or even ten points.

When the bell rang, Snape beckoned Harry to stay in his seat. Harry waved good bye to Ron, Hermione -- and Neville, who looked to be thinking that Harry was going to end up losing Gryffinor a round fifty.

"Potter," started Snape, pacing back and forth behind his desk, slightly shaking. Harry had the impression that Snape was going to rush through his speech, mortified at having to give it. "In light of recent events -- and may I remind you none of the staff agrees with Professor Dumbledore about keeping Pettigrew here --" he said very, very quickly, "I feel it is necessary to put Ja-" but suddenly he stopped speaking and looked at Harry, who had another impression -- that Snape was asking permission to speak the names of Harry's parents.

Snape had not mentioned either of them at all ever since that day nor had he spoken much to Harry, either. And Harry, who had been staring at his desk, looked through the top of his round glasses back at Snape and didn't notice that his look was rather menacing. He thought for a moment and pondered whether he should nod or not. What Snape had said, that James Potter deserved what he got, still sent a venomous hatred through his body.

"You better be asking me permission first," Harry muttered hotly and soundlessly to himself.

"What was that?" asked Snape.

But, gold wristwatch reflecting off Snape's long, crooked nose and the feeling that Snape has had his repentance -- but if Snape wasn't apologizing, Harry would be positively FUMING!

"Go on," said Harry coolly and nodding.

"Very well," said Snape and he went back to pacing. "I feel it is necessary that - that I - I," he stuttered, apparently trying to find the words (or make it come out right so that Harry wouldn't keep his promise and break all of Snape's bones). "I feel it is necessary that I put your father's memory to rest. I believe we are going to be facing difficult times in the very near future, Pettigrew being the least of our worries. While it may or may not be his intention to steal the Book, the consensus among the staff is such that Lord Voldemort will walk again. I don't think it is helping the situation that I have... that I may have misjudged you," he added, quietly. The speech was without a doubt Snape. It was rushed, he sounded apprehensive and he really didn't want to have to say any of it.

"You know my dad wasn't in on the joke to send you to the Shrieking Shack where you'd end up seeing a werewolf," said Harry coolly yet slightly angrily, still peering over the top of his glasses. "It was Sirius who had the idea. My dad just didn't want to see you get hurt. Sirius must have had a reason, though. Why were you always following them around, trying to get them expelled?" Harry added loudly, leaning back.

Snape suddenly stopped his pacing.

"To show that I'm willing, I will not be taking three points from Gryffindor," he said. "You may leave."

Harry didn't want to overstay his visit and left immediately to tell Ron and Hermione what Snape had said.

"Barking mad," said Ron.

"At least we don't get three points taken," said Hermione brightly.

"Shame he didn't want to tell me why he kept following Sirius, Lupin, Pettigrew and my dad around," said Harry.

"Shame he didn't succeed in getting Pettigrew expelled," said Ron.

Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement. They would mention that to Snape next Potions class, just to see, just to find out if he would admit why he followed them.

The first night of searching for anything on the Staff of Cybele yielded nothing. They searched about fifteen books in total before their eyelids succumbed to the force of gravity. As they put the last book on the shelf from which they took it, Harry became slightly sulky, slightly degenerated, from not finding anything useful.

"Harry... it's only the first time looking. I would have been surprised if we found anything," said Hermione comfortingly.

It was the only thing that would keep Harry out of his disenchanting spirits, the pinnacle of which they hoped they reached when Ron had been forced to say that Harry had nothing to lose... except his life. The thought of which terrified Ron each time he remembered he had said it.

The next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione lost all nerve of mentioning to Snape how he should have succeeded in getting Pettigrew expelled. Next class, they kept telling themselves, next class... But the next class they sat back idly, making Mind-Blanker Potions.

Quidditch had become a second thought as of late, though practices continued as normal and games were played on a regular schedule. Cho's face brought minor comfort and the Order of Merlin plaque continued to do something but only very little.

Panic had finally set in throughout the school that Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort's supporter, was lurking the school grounds and their headmaster, the great Albus Dumbledore, was perfectly willing to let him stay. Harry naturally agreed with everyone else in saying Wormtail wasn't to be trusted but as Ron said during lunch one afternoon --

"There's no way he's going to throw Pettigrew out."

Harry had a very unnvering idea for a quick moment that maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore had a Memory Charm placed on him or was being controlled with the Imperius Curse. It was a bit outlandish. That would never happen to Dumbledore, he was too great a wizard and Wormtail would never be able to manage it, Harry assured himself.

"Wish he would," muttered Neville. "I see him in the corridors and he gives me dirty looks..."

"Scared, Longbottom?" said a drawling voice behind Harry. Not surprised to recognize the voice as Malfoy's, Harry didn't bother turning around.

"Didn't you once say that to me, Malfoy?" said Harry coolly. "What, running out of material?"

"If I remember, Potter," sneered Malfoy, "afterwards, everyone ended up being afraid of you."

"Oh everyone should fear me," said Harry sarcastically. "Including you. Next time you're playing Quidditch, I might just cast a lightning bolt down on you. But if you'll look up, it's thundering outside right now!"

Harry then proceeded to put his arms up and flutter his fingers mysteriously as if to cast a spell. Malfoy stumbled and nearly tripped. The people around Harry and Malfoy roared with laughter, including the Hufflepuffs who had seen it.

Malfoy shot the back of Harry's head a particularly nasty look and stormed off towards the Slytherin table. Ron and Hermione snorted into their food. Once they were sure everyone else had sunk into their own conversation with someone, Harry, Ron and Hermione lowered their voices.

"You know what's starting to annoy me more than Malfoy?" Harry asked. "That stupid package the Dursleys keep sending me."

"Have you ever thought that maybe it's not from the Dursleys, that it's actually the same stupid package and that you should open it?" said Hermione hotly.

"Well aren't you the intellectual one," snapped Ron.

Hermione sighed loudly at the side of Ron's head.

"They never kept sending me something, have they," said Harry. He shook his head. "No, I'm not opening it. It's so small, it's just going to be something that's just going to upset me and now that Cho and I are friends again, not to mention you-know-what," said Harry, referring to the Staff of Cybele, "I don't need it ruined by a thoughtless Christmas present."

"Rememeber that dream I had in Divination?" said Ron, purposely changing the subject and looking up.

"Which one?"

"The one with Sirius saying something about 'Cybele' then becoming a zombie?" Harry's eyes widened.

"What, you think he knew something about it?" Hermioned asked, looking between the two of them.

"You know what that means," said Harry suggestively. Ron and Hermione both gave him quizzical looks. "Yes," Harry added, noticing Hermione suddenly frowning, "We're going to the library until we find something useful."

"Fine," said Hermione to which Ron asked her, "Didn't we already establish that?"

Harry nodded. "We did," he told Ron, "but Hermione still thinks we're wasting our time," he said, smiling pleasantly at her.

Their research into the Staff of Cybele continued endlessly into the coming weeks. There seemed to be conflicting reports on what the staff actually looks like. Ron started to believe it really was just a legend.

"I mean, if they can't even agree on what it looks like... Says here it's purple, with a fluffy dragon's head at the tip, a pink crystal ball held in place by a puffskein tongue and the end is a bottlebrush tail. Hey, maybe they killed Crookshanks in a former life and that's why he's so irritable?" said Ron.

"Can't be," said Hermione, ignoring Ron's statement about her cat. "Mr. Ollivander said a skunk's mouth held a pure white crystal. The mouth was attached to the body of a squirrel and made up the staff's handle with a squirrel tail at the bottom."

"Nope," sighed Harry. "This book describes it as a red eagle's mouth holding a red crystal. The eagle's mouth is attached to the body of an eagle, the body being gold. At the end is an eagle's tail and it's red again. This is hopeless."

"About time!" said Ron, who was sick of searching and not finding. "Was wondering when -" but he fell silent at a sharp look from Hermione. She didn't voice it but she was starting to see it Harry's way.

"We just need to keep looking," she insisted.

"Yep," Harry agreed.

"We've searched the entire bloody library!" said Ron angrily.

It was finally Ron's turn to sigh. Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards Hermione, who, as hopeless as the search seemed to be, didn't look to be giving up any time soon.

Fear inside the castle grew as Wormtail's presence in the castle seemed to grow more and more. Harry noticed him lurking the corridors, muttering soundlessly to himself. Rumors quickly started to fly around that he was plotting to kill Harry. Harry silently agreed.

"Preposterous," Hermione assured him.

"Yeah..." he said darkly.

Harry took to peering over his back whenever crossing an empty corridor. A feeling of great unease permeated the castle walls much like it had done when the school was threatened with closure in Harry's second year. Wormtail seemed to be harmless, yet he muttered to himself soundlessly when you passed him. If you tried to talk to him, he transformed into a rat and scampered away.

Wormtail's own attitude had turned for the worse as he became increasingly edgy. Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't know -- or care -- where Wormtail spent the nights. They only cared that he hadn't tried anything yet but Dumbledore kept him still, not caring the entire school thought Wormtail wanted a piece of Harry's skin.

Occasionally you would see Wormtail holding the Book of Memories in his arms, reading it's pages nonchalantly while Harry passed him between classes, off to breakfast, lunch and dinner. This upset Harry a great deal, as he began to feel nothing but utterly perplexed at Dumbledore's decision to let Wormtail, the same Wormtail who had been responsible for Voldemort's second coming, stay.

He couldn't deny to himself that there was something odd about Wormtail carrying the book at all. Dumbledore would never approve of him carrying it, especially considering during their readings, Harry, Ron and Hermione had found out how Voldemort could use it to come back. The Dark Necromancy involved the corpse of one wizard who hated Voldemort and the blood of another. They were completely convinced the body would be Harry's and the blood could be from just about anyone not in Slytherin at Hogwarts.

Particularly upsetting was how Wormtail prowled the third floor corridor each night every time they went to the library. Harry kept returning just to see if Wormtail would do anything different.

Wormtail did seem to be following Harry closely and as a result --

"Can't I just kill him and get it over with?" Harry suggested one morning over breakfast.

"No," said Dean Thomas. "Dumbledore would be the one to kill you then. You know what I saw Pettigrew doing one morning? He was playing with a dead rat and some of his own blood. What does he think he's doing?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged panicked looks. They hadn't told anyone about how Wormtail could revive Voldemort.

"What?" asked Dean, looking between the three of them.

"Nothing," Harry lied quickly.

Dean looked at Harry suspiciously "You know something, don't you?" His eyes widened. "Going to save the school from terror again, eh?" he said brightly.

Harry gave Dean a very angry look and Dean kept his silence about Wormtail throughout the rest of dinner. A few minutes later, the morning post arrived. Harry could see his snowy owl, Hedwig, among the sea of other owls.

"Wonder if there are any good articles in the Daily Prophet," said Hermione, trying to change the subject. "Rita Skeeter hasn't written anything nasty since, well..." she added, smiling.

Hedwig dropped another small, grubby package right on Harry's toast.

"Another one!" he shouted.

"Ever think of actually opening it?" said Hermione, looking between Harry's eyes staring at the package and the package itself.

"No. I told you, it's going to be something stupid."

"Ever since Sirius you've become quite unreasonable, you know," she snapped.

"Have I?" said Harry hotly.

"Yes."

Harry didn't let on, but looking back, she was quite right. It really was silly not to at least open it.

"It's not from the Dursleys, Harry," said Hermione. "It can't be. They wouldn't keep sending you the same package."

Again, she was quite right. Harry stuffed it in his bag saying he would open it when he got back to his dormitory. He really had no intention though. He was just going to throw it out again.

"Look at this," said Ron. "Article in the Daily Prophet about Pettigrew. Word got out..."

"Not surprising," said Harry flatly. "Not our dear friend Skeeter, is it?"'

"Unfortunately," said Ron.

OUT OF HIS MIND?

By Rita Skeeter

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, Albus Dumbledore has done some pretty outlandish things in his time but none as dangerous as allowing Peter Pettigrew, whom all know was responsible for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's brief rise again (before Harry Potter bestowed another gift upon us), to stay within the walls of the school. Pettigrew has been seen in the school halls carrying the Book of Memories, which many will know was used to revive Potter after a nasty incident involving dementors. Many students think Dumbledore should be exiled for such a crazy decision.

"I see him while going to classes and he looks at me funny," says one sixth year student, Neville Longbottom.

Of course, the rumor about the school is that Pettigrew is after Harry Potter. Although outlawed, Necromancy plays a large role in the Dark arts and laws did not stop Pettigrew from performing such forbidden magic to revive He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"We all think he's after Harry," said a seventh year, Cho Chang. "He talks to himself. I once heard him say, 'It'll be quick, I can do it at night and then he'll be back to normal.'"

What would drive Albus Dumbledore, regarded as the best wizard of our time, to settle on such a thing?

The Book of Memories, a several thousand year old tomb, is a bit of Dark magic in itself. Not much is known as Professor Dumbledore prefers to keep the book within school territory, for fear someone might steal it. Professor Dumbledore fears the book will be stolen and yet Pettigrew is allowed to stay inside the school. One can only wonder.

Professor Dumbledore was not available for comment.

"Well that's encouraging," said Harry sarcastically. "He's going to kill me while I'm sleeping, steal the book and then he'll revive Voldemort as quick as he can." He would have said more, but Harry's voice seemed to have stopped working on his request.

It wasn't until one night while sneaking to the library did suspicions become rooted in fact.

"Where does he think he's going!" Harry hissed.

Wormtail was bounding down the third floor corridor just as they turned the corner, carrying the Book of Memories once again. It looked very much like he was attempting to steal it once again but not under Harry's watch would that ever happen. Heart pounding and a surge of energy running through his veins, Harry pulled out his wand and watched Wormtail.

"Taking it away... going to use it on him... only need to do it once... can get it over with finally..." Wormtail muttered to himself.

Harry left Ron and Hermione, taking the Invisibility Cloak with him (and promising no one would find them) and chased after Wormtail, who was running quite fast. Down the stairs towards the second floor... Harry was gaining on him, his legs moving faster than he knew them to normally allow but not taking much notice to it. He made sure he wasn't making too much noise so his footsteps wouldn't be heard over Wormtail's own. If he knew Harry was chasing him... Wormtail was carrying his wand... and there were other ways to kill a person other than the Killing Curse...

Down the marble staircase, Wormtail headed straight for the castle exit. Did he seriously think he would get away?

"Stupefy!" shouted Harry as Wormtail's hand reached the great oak front doors of Hogwarts.

The spell hit Wormtail square in the back. His face slammed into the oak doors with a crunch and he crumpled onto the floor. Walking swiftly from the Great Hall was Dumbledore. This was it, Harry thought happily, Wormtail was going to be thrown out!

Dumbledore halted in front of the body of Wormtail, pointing his long, crooked nose at him, a look of shock on his face, the glitter not evident behind the half-moon spectacles.

"He actually tried to do it," said Dumbledore, straightening himself.

"Never thought he'd do it?" said Harry incredulously, pulling the cloak off himself. Dumbledore didn't look surprised to see Harry there.

"Yes, Harry," said Dumbledore, looking at Harry so sharply that he felt frozen to the spot. "I am aware of the rumor that Pettigrew needs to kill you to revive Lord Voldemort once again and I regret to say that it is true. He does need to kill you" -- and Harry went very numb, blood rising in his face, a fresh feeling of fear slowly seeping through him -- "but he will not as I still believe he ran from the Dark Lord and is seeking refuge here. I did not, however, expect to see him to attempt to steal the Book." He paused for a minute and Harry took the time to gain feeling back in his body. "Please do not tell anyone what has happened."

"Never thought he'd do it," Harry muttered angrily to himself. "You know what I heard him say? 'Taking it away... going to use it on him... only need to do it once... can get it over with finally...' What makes you think he's not going to try to kill me if you didn't think he'd try to steal the book?" he added loudly.

Dumbledore had once before given Harry a grave look and it was none to pleasing -- it was none too pleasing this time around either. There was a long pause in which neither of them said anything. This left time for the thought of Harry's life being in danger to sink in. It had to do so before and each time, it only got worse.

"As I am sure you have heard many times before, your parents gave their life to save you. It would not a great way to repay them by risking it," said Dumbledore.

Harry felt dearly like saying Dumbledore was the one risking Harry's life, not Harry himself. He, Harry, was under Wormtail's scope and there was nothing to prevent Wormtail from using a knife or other means to make Harry's death quick. A cold chill made Harry's back twitch. He'd rather not think about it.

The conversation was deemed over when Dumbledore pointed a long finger towards the marble staircase, beckoning Harry to return to bed. Harry had no intention of going to bed, however. He went back to the third floor corridor where Ron and Hermione were still standing. Harry explained to them what happened.

"It's true then," said Ron. It was evident from the shakiness in his voice that he was just as frightened as Harry was. "Harry, you better watch your back. He won't care about using the Killing Curse..."

"Yeah," said Harry gloomily, "don't need to tell me... Look, we're still going to the library, right?" he added a little more brightly, trying to curb the unsettling grumble in his stomach that kept screaming "you're gonna be dead by midnight tomorrow."

Ron quickly nodded his head. Harry wasn't fooled. Ron still thought it was hopeless but in light of finding out that Wormtail was going to try to kill Harry, he would do anything to make Harry feel better. But it was hard to set aside the fact that someone wanted you dead and they were in the same place as you -- every day.

As they were just about to leave the library that night, having found nothing, a figure strode in from the door. Harry prodded Ron and Hermione in the back and pointed to the person. Harry squinted to make out the dark face but there was no mistaking that silver hand.

"Wormtail!" breathed Harry from under the Invisibility Cloak. Ron pinched Harry hard to shut him up.

Wormtail walked silently over to an empty table, holding the Book of Memories in his hands yet again. If he waved his wand, if he made too sudden a movement... Harry was clutching his wand tightly.

"Let's follow him, shall we?" suggested Harry. "Just to see what he's up to," he added quickly, noting the aggrivated look on Hermione's face.

Wormtail sat down, opened the book and examined the contents. Harry read down the list as Wormtail did.

1. Primer on Object Storage

2. Storage

3. Retrieval

4. Shadows

5. Natural Defenses

Appendix A: Dementors

Appendix B: Nota Vetustum

"Appendix A: Dementors?" whispered Harry incredulously. "There's just a stupid appendix for what we needed it for that summer?"

"Looks like it," whispered Ron.

"Retrival... storage..." whispered Hermione. "Interesting..."

"What the bloody hell does it mean by 'object storage'?" asked Ron.

"I'd like to know what Appendix B is..."

"Shh!" Harry whispered, taking the opportunity to pinch Ron back. "He'll hear us!"

Wormtail opened the book to the section on Retrieval. Harry prodded Hermione, suggesting she memorize it and Hermione agreed, reading as fast as she could.

Owing to the book's natural defenses when invoked, one must keep a clear mind and a set purpose when approaching. See chapter five for more details.

1) Concentrate heavily on the object to be retrieved.

2) Put hand on top of the closed cover of the book.

3) Close eyes and picture object clearly in mind's eye.

4) Stretch out other hand to side, flat, palm facing down.

- If object is light enough to be held, close hand in fist.

BE SURE TO LEAVE ENOUGH ROOM FOR OBJECT TO APPARATE!

- If object is alive, hold arm, palm out, upper arm pointing forward, lower arm perpendicular to body

THIS ALLOWS OBJECT TO FLY AND NOT FALL TO HIS/HER DEATH

5) Incantation: Relatum id res. Convulsum id adsuetus nihil. Eloco nihil non hactenus non temere.

Wormtail abruptly turned to the section on Storage after a good ten minutes. The process was exactly the same and Hermione took the time to memorize the storing incantation as well. Just as she finished memorizing it though, Wormtail snapped the book shut and left.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" said Harry, eyes wide open, heart going excitedly.

"And that is?" asked Ron, anxiously awaiting Harry's answer.

"The staff! That's how you get it! Now Wormtail knows and he's going to try then we'll all be dead. If it's that easy how come no one else has tried it?" Harry added furiously.

"Maybe it's not that easy?" said Ron.

"We're going to find out," said Harry firmly, turning to Ron who looked at Hermione, apparently scared that Harry was going to make them try it now. "Wormtail's going to try it as soon as he can and that's when he's going to steal it because no one's going to try to fight him carrying that staff."

Harry sighed. "But right now my head hurts and I want to sleep," he added, looking at his watch, rubbing his forehead.

Ron and Hermione nodded at Harry in agreement. There were both happy to hear Harry say that as it meant that he wasn't going to lose his mind over Wormtail and that he was still sensible -- or at least as sensible as one who wants to stay up until five in the morning reading books can be. Ron and Hermione wanted to see Sirius back as much as Harry did.

On the way back to his room, Harry gazed at the Pensieve sitting upon his bedside table that he never used. Perhaps now was a good time to see if he could use it? There were a few too many things nagging at him and too many things keeping him wide awake to feel the least bit sleepy. He took the letter that came with it out from inside of it and read it again.

You might find a use for this very soon.

To use it, think of what you want to

remove and put your wand to your

forehead, just under your bangs.

Twirl your wand to collect the

thought while concentrating on

extracting it from your forehead.

You may not get it for a few weeks,

as it took me a few hours of trying

to get it at first.

Happy Christmas

Harry was still one hundred percent sure Dumbledore had sent it and he might as well see if he could work it. He pulled out his wand from inside his robes, sat on his four-post bed and faced the Pensieve, feeling very dumb. Harry twirled his wand in his fingers for a moment trying to decide which current memory was best to try and examine first. Maybe he would find something out that he hadn't seen before? But which to use... Wormtail's most recent attempt at stealing the book? Sirius? James... Griffith? The Order of Merlin plaque? What bothered him most, he couldn't clearly tell.

As Ron began to snore, a voice in the back of Harry's head cried Voldemort.

If he could just stop Voldemort from ever coming back, by finding out how he had prevented himself from dying -- twice now -- life would be grand. There was always the problem of his Death Eaters and their, or at least some of them, devotion to their "wonderful" Dark Lord. Harry despised calling him "Lord." He wasn't a Lord to anyone. He was just a pain and sometimes a very large pain. Yes, that would be perfect. If Harry could just put a memory of Voldemort in the Pensieve, look at it for a minute, see if anything else came to his head, something that might help him fall asleep...

So, putting the tip of his wand just under his hairline -- and feeling dumb, for Mr. Weasley suggested Harry would never be able to manage it without a spell -- he concentrated hard on the very silly thing of forcing it onto the tip of his wand. Harry twirled his wand. Oddly excited, he was sure he saw something silvery coming from the top of his head as he slowly pulled the wand away. He looked at it... and frowned. There was nothing on it except a few loose hairs. Mr. Weasley was right.

Dumbledore insisted Harry would be able to do it without a spell. Why? Harry had to question this -- he didn't think he'd be able to do it either. It would be a waste of his time though, to not practice. Maybe he just need to try a little harder? He has done a few spells nobody expected him to be able to do... the Patronus Charm for one (and driving off about a hundred dementors), the ice dragon... but he never managed to do something by just wishing it to happen... or had he?

Harry put his wand back on his forehead and, this time, closed his eyes, concentrating hard on forcing the thought out of himself and onto his wand. Maybe he was concetrating too hard, it made his head hurt, but there was no other way he could think of. He sat for a few minutes, not pulling the wand away or twirling it (mostly to prolong the time until he saw that it had failed again). Harry thought wildly for a moment that he could put another thought into the Pensieve along with this one. That would make a good letter to taunt Mr. Weasley with but it was dumb to think he could do that. Really. He was going to have to spend a few days trying to get just one.

Stupidly closing his eyes as hard as he could, Harry twirled his wand, feeling his hairs curl with it. He opened his eyes and took a look at it. To his great surprise, there were two small strands of the strange silvery-white substance that had filled up Dumbledore's Pensieve. Not only had he managed to work it but he managed to get two thoughts out at once! This left him with a lot of questions, sitting on his bed, looking at his handiwork.

"You're a great wizard, you know," Hermione had once said to him to which he replied, "I'm not as good as you."

Harry had always repeatedly denied to himelf that he wasn't good at all. After all, it was Hermione who repeatedly got the best grades in their year, not him. He also remembered that he only got six O.W.L.s...

What had everyone kept repeating to HIM?

"I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander had said to Harry and Harry couldn't forget that his wand shared cores with Voldemort. The same phoenix gave both wands their core and the brother of Voldemort's powerful, yew wand was keen on being a perfect match for Harry. That's what it is, Harry thought miserably, I've just got a powerful wand. But the Sorting Hat said it, too --

"There's talent, ah my goodness, yes," it muttered in his ear. "You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head," it also whispered.

Harry tried not to strain himself thinking too hard. All he knew was that if he tried hard, he usually could do it and then a strange thought hit him. He really was the great wizard everyone expected him to turn out to be... was he? The thought made his head pound... and it was already hurting from sleepiness.

Okay, Harry finally thought to himself, enough wondering. You're going to drive yourself nuts. Stick these two thoughts ino the Pensieve, take a quick look... and go to sleep, he told himself sharply.

He did so and watched them settle to the bottom of the Pensieve. The first one he knew. The pitiless face of Voldemort swirled around, his snake-like eyes going from thin lines of hatred to ones that resembled Dobby's tennis ball-sized eyes.

The second one he didn't recognize right away. There was just a forest but he had seen enough forests to do his own show on National Geographic, the Muggle television station. Forget it, Harry told himself, you're tired. He tilted his head back, turning it from side to side, stretching his stiff neck (he hadn't moved it for several minutes while he stared at his wand). He meant to stretch his arms, too, but a distant, echoing and cold voice coming from the Pensieve made him stop abruptly.

"Death become that boy when I find him," it said.

It was Voldemort. Harry leaned over the Pensieve to see what it was.

"M-master, he has lived twice now!" quivered Wormtail.

"I know," said Voldemort coldly, "and I don't need your patheticness to remind me..."

"H-how then can we revive you? The boy will have g-great protection, s-surely we can't simply-"

"Silence."

Harry didn't pay much attention to their surroundings. He suddenly remembered the dream almost completely again.

Voldemort shook his head in disgust.

"W-what, m-master?"

"Please get away from me as there is enough filth from the ground without you near."

They stopped talking for a while and then...

"WE NEED IT, WORMTAIL!" said Voldemort loudly and immediately --

"No!" shrieked Dean.

"He's back!" exclaimed Seamus.

Neville simply screamed.

"Harry!" shouted Ron.

Voldemort's scream had woken them up. Harry didn't take notice that they were all staring at him nor did he take notice of foosteps coming closer to his dormitory.

"YOU WILL HELP!" Voldemort continued. "YOU WILL NOT FAIL ME! - if you follow what I have told you correctly..."

"I will, master," said Wormtail, "I will..."

"You will what?" asked Voldemort suddenly, sharply and loudly. "You will fail me?"

"No, my Lord!" pleaded Wormtail, "I won't fail!"

"If you do, Wormtail, you know what's coming..."

Voldemort laughed coldly and thankfully, this time not causing any pain in Harry's scar. Harry watched as the picture of Voldemort and Wormtail faded into nothing but a silvery mess.

Neville, Dean, Seamus and Ron sat, staring transfixed at Harry, their eyes darting between him and the jar Harry was staring at. They looked too shocked to actually speak. They had heard Voldemort's voice, something that would send shockwaves down anyone's spine. Neville looked like he would never speak, ever again.

A bunch of seventh and fifth years were standing in the common room. Hermione had walked in, still rubbing her eyes.

"I just remembered something," said Harry innocently, trying to ignore the fact that they all wanted to know why Voldemort had been screaming in their ears. He looked around at them all before fixing his blank gaze at the Pensieve again. "That was the dream I had on the train the day my scar hurt, Ron," he went on slowly and softly, dropping all pretense at hiding his fear. Harry turned his scared eyes to Ron for a second and then went back to blankly staring at the Pensieve. "All the things we've been thinking... everything we might have questioned... they're true... and there's nothing to question," Harry said, his voice trembling. "Wormtail's faking everything so he can figure out how to work the book... take it... kill me... then run..."

Neville pointed a trembling finger in the direction of the Pensieve and squeaked. Harry slowly turned his head to look at Neville and then at his finger.

"This?" Harry asked, raising the Pensieve, darting his eyes back to it. Neville nodded. "It's a Pensieve. Dumbledore sent it to me for Christmas. You can put thoughts into it and look at them. I got two out at once but I didn't know what the second one was when I pulled it out... Go ahead and tell everyone about it. Once Dumbledore finds out that I'm scared to death, then he'll do something..."

Plenty of silence followed Harry's speech. Hermione was gaping at him, Ginny at her side, who had her mouth open in a sort of silent scream.

Harry threw his dad's Warmth Cloak over the Pensieve to drown out any voices that might start talking again and stuffed the Pensieve in a drawer. Saying he was scared to death was an understatement.

He took off his jewelry -- the Order of Merlin necklace, his golden wristwatch -- put them all on his bedside table, closed the curtains and stared up at the top of his four-poster, heart drumming against his chest, beads of sweat lining his brow. He didn't think he'd ever fall asleep that night when he half expected Wormtail to come running in holding the Book of Memories and then say a few words from it... causing Harry to have a most painful death.