Harry Potter & The Last Memories ...Year Seven

Chapter - 1. By Owl Delivery

In a warm bed, concealed in a tangle of white sheets, lies Harry Potter. The birds sang on that clear sunny morning; the air smelled crisp with a hint of lavender and freshly cut grass. Hedwig hooted in her cage as she caught the scent of the clean air while the sun peeked over the emerald hill. This would have been the perfect morning, if not for one thing: Dumbledore was dead. Harry remained with Ron's family and Hermione stayed with them as well that summer. In fact, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the only children in the Weasley household at the time. Ron's brothers all lived on their own, including his brother Bill who was newly married to the half Veela, Fleur. The death of Dumbledore still hung heavy in their hearts, being only a week after the horrific tragedy.

'Breakfast!' shouted Mrs. Weasley, the sound echoing through the halls of her quaint home. Harry felt more sickened than hungry; Ron and Hermione felt the same. Everybody in the house met at the kitchen table, their moods low.

'Wish I'd wake up,' said Harry.

'Whatcha mean?' asked Ron, looking depressed.

'Nothing, Ron. Just nothing.'

'Harry means he wishes he'd wake up from this nightmare. He wishes Dumbledore never died and that he dreamed it all,' said Hermione. Her words barely leaving her lips before she started to sob, trembling with great remorse.

'I wonder how things are at Hogwarts? What do you think Hagrid will do?' asked Ginny as she fiddled with her fork, her eyes downcast on the plate before her.

'I don't know, Ginny. I can't go back another year. I have to find the missing pieces of Voldemort's soul. According to Dumbledore there are four left.'

'No, Harry,' chimed Mrs. Weasley with widened eyes. It was obvious the prospect of her son, and one which almost held that place in her heart, striding into certain danger did not amuse her - not one bit.

'You need help with this. A Horcrux is diabolical and guarded by the most lethal magic, all dark.'

'She's right, Harry,' said Hermione.

'This will be very dangerous, we have to be careful.'

'What?' said a shocked Mrs. Weasley, almost dropping a plate of fried eggs. 'Did I hear you right? Did you say, '"WE"?'

'Why, yes. Ron, and I are going to help Harry find them.'

It was as if a rocket went off in Mrs. Weasley's head.

'NO! It's bad enough Harry is planning this foolishness, but both of you. NO!'

'Mom, I told you about this after the funeral. Please understand. Dumbledore ...'

'I said NO, Ron. When your father finds out about this, you'll be sorry. I should call him through floo at the office right now,' she said shouting louder.

'Mrs. Weasley,' said Harry. 'Dumbledore told me to do this. We were working on finding them when he got killed.'

'But you had him by your side back then,' she spat, her eyes brimming with tears. 'Now he's ... gone.'

'Yes, but he was close to death anyway. You didn't see him; he looked awful. I got him back to Hogwarts again on my own. I think he knew I was ready. I think he showed me what I have to do before he died.'

Mrs. Weasley quieted, her cheeks reddening from worry.

'I want to find them.' Tears began to form in his green eyes. 'That way, his death won't be for nothing.' He hung his head.

The silence was deafening, only broken by a little owl flying through the window to deliver a parchment note to Harry. The ebon owl dropped the worn note on his lap and as Harry glimpsed the paper he began to wonder - it obviously wasn't a fresh note. Taking it carefully in his hands, he winced as a piece of tattered paper flaked from the very edge and fell to the floor. Yes, he mused, this wasn't a recent note.

Gingerly unrolling it, his eyes widened as he read the flowing, curly scrawl.

Look to the Pensieve.

All thoughts of breakfast swept away; Harry held the note before him, completely baffled; yet, he knew where it was he was supposed to go. His thoughts drifted back to the pewter Pensieve, the unknown substance swirling in its inner-iron lips. However, even light could never exist without darkness for they went hand in hand. As he remembered the basin, there was also a certain one with a green substance that immediately assaulted his mind. Harry could feel his heart twinge with that thought - the last one he ever wanted to think of.

'What's that?'

His thoughtful expression left him as he turned to his left to face Ron who breathed over his shoulder, his voice somewhat muffled as he picked at Harry's forgotten breakfast.

Harry shrugged, putting a hand on his neck as he stood up from his chair. 'Don't know,' he said, yet such a thing wasn't truth - he knew exactly what he must do. 'It's pretty ... obscure.'

Ron craned his neck forward; scanning the letter almost as thoughtful as his raven-haired friend as he took an absent bite out of his toast, '"Look to the Pensieve",' Ron mocked, raising both eyebrows. 'What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean - OW!'

Instantly his hand went straight to the spot where Hermione's hand hit. Ron whirled around, a fire of anger and question in his eye as he glared at her. 'What was that for?' he asked, looking almost daringly into her raging eyes.

Harry watched the two go at one another, a genuine smile bursting across his cheeks. This wasn't an unfamiliar thing for him to sit in on, between Ron and Hermione, but for the first time, he found it comforting - it was the first step for things to become normal. At that, his smile vanished, replaced by a thoughtful frown. Normal was when Dumbledore was here. He thought his mind so far into itself that he didn't hear Ron's first call.

'Harry!'

It was only the second time when the red-haired boy tapped him a bit too forcedly on the neck did he look up, plastering a false smile on his face.

'Harry!'

'What?' he asked, his hand yet again going to the redness forming on his neck as he threw a questioning glare at Ron. It was at that moment Mrs. Weasley stepped from the sink between the two boys. Harry could have sworn, as she walked by she muttered, 'Thank Merlin for you children.'

Harry smiled knowingly at her. But that moment had passed as she threw him a side-ways look of question and Harry only smiled innocently at her, allowing her to take the pitch and lecture both the boys.

'Ron,' she yelled, waving the food-covered spatula in her rubber-gloved hand at her ruddy son. 'You need to straighten your manners around guests. Harry's been through a lot in the past days and he doesn't need any brotherly abuse,' she spat the last word, his cheeks reddening, matching her loose hair. Then she turned to the three, lowering her flailing arm to her side, her expression turning somewhat warmer though she failed to mask her temper. 'Now I want you three to go upstairs and make your beds. Fred and George are coming over this afternoon and Percy.' She paused at the mention of her, other son, a fond smile spread across her face (again, not matching as the three, including Ginny glared). 'Percy might be making a visit as well. I don't want him to see the house after the two years he hasn't lived here, like it's been before.'

Harry nodded, looking over to Ron who remained listless, his fist clenching and unclenching, he knew there would be a list of angry words spewing from his mouth as soon as they would get upstairs. He smiled inwardly to himself, turning back to Mrs. Weasley who he was thankful didn't seem to notice his momentary diversion and went on.

'Ginny, you'll help me clean up the plates and when the rest of you are done upstairs, I want you to clean up the kitchen.'

Harry would have turned around to head upstairs with Ron and Hermione who shot one another dirty looks, but found himself compelled to ask a question.

'Mrs. Weasley,' he called after her just before she turned around, a kind smile on her face as she regarded the young man. 'How exactly is Percy getting here?'

'Arthur's bringing him home from the Ministry,' she explained.

Harry nodded shortly to himself as he turned around to join the other two who waited (as far as possible from one another) at the bottom of the stairs. Harry stood next to Ron, who seemed to be caught up in the restraint of not spilling his words until they were out of ear shot from Mrs. Weasley's keen ears, and they knew that would only be when they were in the top room and inside.

A second later, it was Hermione who broke the silence as she said, 'I wonder what Percy's going to be here for. It's not common for him to visit after what happened a while ago,' she remarked as the trio trudged up the last staircase.

Harry shrugged as he turned the brass doorknob, pushing open the door revealing the somewhat larger confines. Mr. Weasley insisted Ron should have a larger room as soon as he received his rather comfortable sized wages upon his promotion. He opened his mouth to speak but Ron beat him to it, his voice thundering about them.

'Oh, knowing that arse, ' he continued even though Hermione shot him a disapproving look, 'it is probably because his first love, the ministry, is making him console about Dumbledore's death.'

~~*~~

The summer sun beat down relentlessly on the Weasley garden. A silver gleam cast off many garden gnomes heads as they sped around waving their short arms about in the sun. It looked funny to Ron, Harry, and Hermione. The whole scene made them laugh rampantly at such silliness. The gnomes were jumping and tumbling under tall ferns to get away from the burning rays.

'I don't think I've laughed for days. It feels good, in a way,' said Harry, shaking his butter beer on the grass where the three sat under the shade of a large willow.

'Yes, I know what you mean. Ever since,' said Hermione, pausing her words, to close her eyes with a bad memory. 'Ever since Dumbledore died, I've felt so saddened. I mean I know it's normal to miss him. I missed my grandmother when she passed away. This is different; my sadness seems to be overwhelming at times. Your mom thinks it's because I knew Dumbledore better than I knew my grandmother. I think she's right.'

'We all have felt terrible,' replied Ron, looking down at his lap. Then Harry cut in.

'Yet, I can't get over the idea, when I'm happy, I feel guilty. Then I think that Dumbledore would want me to go on. I know he would. He'd want that for all of us. Yet, every time I start to feel happy in any way, I stop - and start thinking about what happened, and how I would like to, I would like to ...' Harry paused.

'What Harry?' asked Hermione.

'I would like to KILL SNAPE!' he screamed as if he would explode, his eyes twisting in profound anger.

'Harry, it's all so fresh in our minds. Each day will get a little better, I hope,' said Hermione.

'I have to go to Hogwarts,' blurted out Harry, looking directly in their faces.

'Why? I thought you wanted to find the other Horcruxes,' said Ron, with a strange, surprised look on his freckled face.

'It's that note, isn't it?' said Hermione, with a sly look.

'I should have known you'd say that,' said Harry.

'I guessed, but a sudden parchment note from Hogwarts, Harry. You acted as if you saw a ghost when you read it. I knew it would take you back there somehow.'

'Is it true, Harry?' asked Ron.

'Yes, Ron, it is.'

'Who sent it?'

'I don't know. All it said was: Look to the Pensieve. You should know, you read it over my shoulder, both you and Hermione.'

'Yeah, but I wonder why someone would send a note like that?'

'That's what I'm trying to find out, Ron. I feel we'll leave today, after lunch, by floo.'

'Why not Apparate there? We could pop into McGonagall's office faster that way and with less soot.'

'Ron, you can't do that in Hogwarts - remember,' said Hermione with a smirk.

'Oh yeah. I'm always forgetting about that.' Ron laughed to hide his embarrassment from Hermione.

Thinking about Hogwarts and how, by floo, they would end up in McGonagall's office made Ron and Hermione smile. With the smiles, their minds flooded with sudden wonderful memories of the past, memories soon replaced by the even more recent past. A past they all wished they could erase.

~~~

'Hurry back. I mean it,' shouted Mrs. Weasley, to Harry, the last to leave for Hogwarts by floo. Her voice swirled away as he left the Weasley fireplace and returned to the one at Hogwarts, the one that went straight into Professor McGonagall's office. With a loud whooshing sound Harry found himself flat on his back, covered in soot, looking up at two smiling faces, Ron and Hermione's.

'It felt rougher than I remember. I think the ministry needs to look at why,' said Ron, lending Harry his hand and pulling him off the floor.

'Yeah, but the way things are now, nothing will happen to get it fixed. I mean, with all the Death Eaters about. The Ministry must be spread thin as it is,' replied Hermione.

'Look at this place. Professor McGonagall must have been away for a while by the looks of her office,' said Harry, gawking at the dusty office.

'Well, I doubt she lives here. None of the teachers live here, do they?' said Ron shrugging.

'Yes, think, Ron. Hagrid does. I don't know how many would other than him, though,' said Harry.

'Wait - she won't be here anyway, she's Headmistress now, remember? Her new office is Dumbledore's old one. You'll have some explaining to do if she's there,' said Hermione.

'It's too early in the school year. Unless she's living here, I doubt she'd be in the office now.'

Harry thought about how hard it would be to get to the Pensieve if she was there. After all, he wouldn't tell her anything about his mission with Dumbledore when she asked him. She'd be hard to convince to allow him in there to snoop through the Pensieve memories.

'At least, I hope she's not there. This could complicate things a bit,' said Harry.

All three stood looking at an old picture that was sitting on her desk, a picture of she and Dumbledore. It looked as though they were laughing during a Quidditch match, years ago. The three smiled softly upon the flood of memories. Then Hermione turned to Harry.

'It will be harder when you go into Dumbledore's office, Harry.'

She stood in front of him watching his expression becoming sombre, which mirrored Ron's.

'We can go with you, Harry. It's no trouble. In fact, I think we should,' said Ron.

'No, I'll be all right. I need to be alone. You two go and visit Hagrid; he's expecting you anyway. Remember, I sent him an owl to let him know we were coming?'

'Oh, yeah,' said Ron.

'Harry, are you sure?' said Hermione, looking serious.

'Yes, now go. I want to get this over with.'

Ron and Hermione left for the main staircase to the main floor and door, while Harry proceeded to Dumbledore's office. Memories streamed through his mind with every step. He smiled at the warmer ones and feared he may cry with the last one he had of Dumbledore. He treated Harry as a father, his real father. Harry grew to trust and love him profoundly as a son and often wondered if that's what it's like to have a father.

He came to the all too familiar ugly stone gargoyle, which marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office, and gave the last password he'd remembered. Oddly, it worked. Up the twisting elevator-like platform, he went until upon its last turn it stopped in front of the door to the office. Inside, Harry looked around as if expecting to find the old wizard sitting at his desk looking up at him with a wisdom filled smile.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he walked towards the desk. Nothing had changed. The sorting hat still sat upon a shelf alone and dusty, all of the pictures of the past headmasters were there; there was even one of Dumbledore himself, his sleeping form sitting in an old rocking chair. Harry thought it was more than likely something Dumbledore hadn't been able to get much of when alive. Even so, the sight of his dear friend on the wall next to all of the other past masters hung heavy in Harry's heart. It reminded him of when he first set eyes upon the old wizard. When he and Ron were on the Hogwarts train and he got his first wizard card, it had been Dumbledore. How he wished he could take his image out of that final picture and stand in front of him once more. Harry stood there as if in silent prayer, staring at the picture with welling tears.

He sighed, and suddenly caught site of the Pensieve. That unfinished thing he had to try to make sense of, in regard to his recent message. Harry walked over to where it now stood, beside Dumbledore's desk. His desk held a new addition; three little flasks, which Harry would have sworn weren't there before.

'Not only has the Pensieve been moved, but also I swear he showed me everything that night. There weren't more flasks of memories. Were there?' he said to himself. He felt a sudden chill and turned around abruptly facing the door. He had the distinct feeling he was being watched. Yet, nothing appeared to be there. 'Peeves!' Harry shouted, his voice echoing through the empty room. He shook his head, feeling a bit unsettled.

He picked up the first little flask with a silver swirling gaseous liquid and poured its entire contents into the Pensieve. He worried over what it could contain, yet he knew he must do it. Even without Dumbledore beside him, as before, he knew this needed doing. He plunged into the Pensieve memory and began to see its world unfold.

Harry sat upon a grassy knoll just outside a rustic village. He didn't know the name, although it seemed familiar. Harry walked on towards a large home in the distance. The farther he walked, the more worried and tenser he felt. He noticed the front door was open and walked inside. There stood a woman sobbing into her hands.

'No, no, you can't mean it Voldemort. Please reconsider - PLEASE,' she screamed.

Voldemort - Harry thought in fear. This tall, no longer handsome, man seemed unfeeling to this woman, smacking her down where she fell before his feet, weeping uncontrollably.

'Please, please reconsider, I love you.' She looked up into his unforgiving face, through her veil of tears.

'I love no one. Eileen, you are filth. Only dogs will welcome you. I care not if you carry our child. You mean nothing to me. I haven't time for you I have bigger things to pursue.' He stared out the window with an odd glitter in his eyes. Then he abruptly looked down at her sobbing by his feet. 'GO!' he said in a voice dripping in rage, booming in the ears of Harry and the skinny sallow faced woman who drug herself from the floor and left, still sobbing, her stringy black wisps of hair trailing down her back.

Harry thought it a terrible scene. Voldemort kicking away the woman who would bear his child; then he wondered who it was, and if the child was ever born.

At once Harry felt everything change and, before he could blink, he found himself outside the Pensieve in total shock, standing back by the desk. Even though it seemed like hours, the sky still looked sapphire blue through the windows of Dumbledore's office.

'What a bombshell,' he thought.

'So, old Voldemort has a child, or had a child. I wonder who it is, or was.'

Yet, something about the woman bothered Harry. Something about her, what was it? Then suddenly he went cold. 'Eileen Prince?' He frantically thought, and dared not breathe; he wanted to be dreaming all this. If he took a breath, he'd know it was all real somehow. 'No, not her. Surely not Snape's mother. That could mean...' Harry didn't want to think anymore.

He couldn't imagine how this could be true. Last year he saw a memory Snape never wanted him to see. Harry saw a forbidden realm of the time when Snape suffered abuse from Harry's father and friends. He also remembered Snape as a young boy crying on his bed, shooting flies from the ceiling with his wand. His parents didn't seem to get along. He wondered if it happened because of this. But why call himself the Half-Blood Prince? All he knew is he needed to get to Hermione and Ron, and fast. This couldn't wait, and could explain many things.

However, a loud shrill distracted Harry from his thoughts making him fall back a bit onto the desk, his hand sweeping over the surface in effort to keep his balance, knocking the remaining flasks of memory on the floor, shattering them.

'NO!' Harry looked at the broken flasks and then his eyes fell upon what startled him, something enormously shocking.

'Fawkes - is that you?'

Upon a stand perched a giant, beautiful, red Phoenix, an unmistakable old friend, and Dumbledore's faithful companion. Harry approached the bright red bird cautiously, with a half smile.

'Why are you here?' Harry petted Fawkes feeling the warmth of old memories. 'I missed you old friend. Am I supposed to take you now?'

Fawkes made a lyrical call, almost as if he laughed. Harry felt happy seeing the much-adored pet of Dumbledore; it was almost like having him back for an instant. As Harry looked back at the shattered flasks Fawkes flew over to them. He stared at the flasks and at Harry and made a loud shrill sound, like a squawking chicken.

'Are you scolding me?' Harry looked at Fawkes in wonder. He squawked again looking down at the shattered mess then back at Harry.

'Yes, I know I made a mess of things. I've failed and Dumbledore would be angry if he were here.'

Harry sat on the floor next to Fawkes with his head in his hands, looking at the disaster before him. Fawkes walked over to him and perched on his leg.

'I really did it this time. Now I'll never know what else Dumbledore wanted me to see.'

Fawkes made another lyrical sound. It seemed he understood everything Harry felt. In an odd way, Harry drew comfort from this. Looking at him with a smile, he thought he'd tell Hermione and Ron everything he saw. They would have to work from there. Fawkes read his smile and cooed softly. Then he flew back to his perch. Harry knew he needed to leave this place now. A cold shadow passed over him.

'Fawkes, I will miss you, my old friend. I'm not returning here again.'

A sudden gasp resonated from the pictures. Harry didn't know which one made this sound, yet when he turned fast he could have sworn that he saw Dumbledore's face move, as though it had been watching him just moments before. Fawkes's twittering sound came at the same time, as if the two were connected.

Harry turned his focus back to Fawkes. 'I must do what I was told and find the Horcruxes to destroy Voldemort.' He paused with a sudden dark thought. 'After seeing this new memory, Snape is worse than I may have thought. Just wait until I catch him.' Fawkes looked down in a solemn manner at Harry, as if saddened by the news.

'Not you too, Fawkes. You can't think he's trustworthy like Dumbledore did after all he's done.' Harry looked up at Dumbledore, still snoring away in his rocking chair. He felt a heavy heart when he left, heaviness from knowing this time it was for good. He never thought it would come to this. He never wanted to ever say good-bye to a place he felt he belonged more than any other place on earth. Everything in his world had come crashing down, and he wanted to change it back, to wake up from the nightmare that unfolded before him. As he exited the office, Fawkes made one last lyrical cry, and Harry wondered if he would ever see him again, as he headed out the empty castle's main room and through the doors to Hagrid's cabin. There he knew Ron and Hermione would be waiting with an old familiar face, Hagrid's.

~

'Harry!' said Hagrid, opening up his heavy door, his broad smile showing through his tangle of brown facial hair, and beard. The giant man remained the same through the years Harry had known him. The same style, attire, home (which he had redone after the awful Death Eater set it on fire), and most of all, the thing that made Harry love him as a close friend, his big heart. About the only thing that changed in Hagrid's life were his jobs, going from the Keeper of the Keys to Professor of Care of Magical Creatures.

'Welcome, yer here. But I wish it were like old times. 'fraid I can't say that, Harry.'

Hagrid gave Harry a bear hug in the doorway of his cabin while Ron and Hermione smiled, sitting at the table. Harry told them all everything he saw in the odd memory. He left nothing out.

'You mean Snape could be Voldemort's son?' Ron gasped, while Hermione looked speculative.

'I don't know, Harry.' She paused trying to make sense from all Harry said.

'The child in question could have died, or maybe she never had it,' said Hermione.

'So you think she got rid of it?'

Hermione's eyes grew twice their size.

'Harry! No nothing, like that. Maybe, she lost it. She was upset, as you said. Maybe she had a miscarriage.'

Hagrid looked down at the table where he sat.

'What's the matter, Hagrid?' asked Ron, noticing how serious he suddenly appeared.

'Nothin'. Nothin' at all,' said Hagrid.

'Hagrid,' said Harry. 'We've known you for seven years; by now we all know when something's bothering you.'

Hagrid's eyes welled with tears, which spilled down his face.

'I'm goin' ter miss yeh.' He looked into their faces. 'All of yeh. You can't leave here, Harry. None of yeh. You're goin' ter get yerselves killed, yeh are.'

Hermione stood up and walked over to where Hagrid sat, she patted him on the back in an effort to console him.

'Don't worry Hagrid. We'll be okay. Harry has to do this. Dumbledore.' She closed her soft brown eyes. 'Dumbledore wanted Harry to find these Horcruxes. It's the only way to take away Voldemort's immortality.'

'How do you know where they all are?' asked Hagrid.

'We don't. At least, not yet. What I hope didn't happen is that the memories I broke didn't contain something crucial, something I need to know.' Harry sighed in frustration. 'Now I'll never know what they were,' he said, hanging his head.

'It's too dangerous. Get someone else ter help yeh,' said Hagrid, appearing to have regained his composure. In fact, he now acted like a parent forbidding his children from venturing into a dangerous place. This is how his profound love for the three showed itself.

'We can't. Dumbledore entrusted this task to me, Hagrid,' said Harry. 'It's my duty. I have some clues, now I just have to unravel them.'

Hagrid knew he'd never convince them not to go on this mission.

'Jus' be careful. There's a war brewin'. You three jus' remember that. Them Death Eaters are getting bold. I saw Bellatrix and Narcissa come through here jus' yesterday.'

Hagrid's eyes looked to the floor, from a sudden thought.

'What Hagrid?' asked Harry, who felt enough anger upon the mere mention of Bellatrix's name, she being the one he held responsible for his godfather's death, and hated her as much as he hated Snape. To think of her presence here, at Hogwarts, angered Harry beyond words.

'Well, there was another.'

'Who?'

'Snape.'

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then Harry. The name 'Snape' always held much animosity in Harry's heart. Over the last seven years, he had been the nastiest, most cold-hearted teacher Harry ever had. Harry's fury grew, seen in his narrowing eyes, tight lips, and blazing red cheeks. Harry drew his hands into fists. Snape could have felt their power if he had been there.

'He has some nerve coming back here. I thought he was on the run.'

'Well.' Hagrid looked down. 'He was. It seems the Ministry now claims he was bein' impersonated.'

'IT WAS HIM!' shouted Harry, through profound rage.

'Harry calm down,' said Ron.

'Harry, please. You'll get nowhere being this upset,' said Hermione, now trying to calm him down too.

'Don't you all understand? I spoke to him. I chased him from the tower across the grounds, the night he killed Dumbledore. I saw everything he did. He was with Malfoy running to the gate to get out of Hogwarts after what he'd done. His voice sounded like Snape. His anger about my dad and his friends was the same. He's never let it go all of these years. He felt the anger, even at that point, I heard him!'

'What did he say, Harry,' asked Hagrid.

'I called him a coward, and he asked me if I thought four against one would be more my style. It had to do with a memory I saw in the Pensieve last year. A memory about how my dad and his friends were down by the lake one day, down by where Snape was studying. He would go down there to do that a lot. He was embarrassed when my dad cast his own spell on him, turning him upside down in front of my mother. My mother even stood up for him, but what did he do? Snape became angry and told her he didn't want her help; I think he called her a mudblood too. It was years ago and I'll never find that memory again in the Pensieve, but I'm pretty sure that's what he said. He was really rude. I know the Snape I saw, out on the lawn after he killed Dumbledore, was referring to that memory. Something only he would have known I knew. So I know it was Snape that night in front of me.'

'Well, Harry -,' said Hagrid.

'So now, Snape gets away with it? I will see he pays. And you're saying he's still a teacher here?'

'Yes, 'tis why he came. Wanted to make sure his classroom was in order.'

'He's not really here to teach, I'll bet. Who would let him teach their children? Won't he stand trial? Can't they see through it all?' asked Harry.

'Harry, if the Ministry thinks somebody used a Polyjuice Potion to pretend they were Snape there wouldn't be a trial. He'd be free,' said Hermione.

'I don't believe this! Snape got away with it. Now he's back and there may be a war. He's working for Voldemort, why can't they see it?' said Harry.

'Harry, you need to concentrate on the Horcruxes. Snape is not the way to finding them. Worry about him later,' said Hermione.

A strange gleam came into Harry's eyes.

'Oh, I will, Hermione. I will.'

The three Apparated back to Ron's, however, that day marked a strange obsession, an angry vendetta in Harry to get revenge against Snape. Ron and Hermione noticed this newly born animosity. They hoped it wouldn't cloud his mind in finding the remaining Horcruxes. They hoped that Harry wouldn't become ruled by hatred, like Snape, and that Harry would let it go.