Harry Potter & The Last Memories ...Year Seven

'You know - it's almost September; the last term starts soon,' said Hermione. She sat cross-legged on the floor by Harry's bed, while reading a seventh-year book of spells. This took place in Ron's room, for Harry shared his room during his stay with the Weasleys.

'Are you having second thoughts about helping me?' asked Harry, staring out Ron's window. From here, he could just manage to glimpse the distant rooftop of Snape's childhood home.

'Not really - well yes - actually,' said Hermione, snapping the large leather-bound book closed.

'So, we've come this far and you're going to quit?' asked Ron, who was sitting on his bed across the room glaring at Hermione.

'No, I never said I'd quit. It is just; we have come a long way in Hogwarts, too. It's our seventh year and, Harry.' She paused looking directly at him. 'I remember you saying you wanted to be an Auror.'

Harry took a step away from the window headed for Hermione.

'I know, I still do. But, if we don't stop Voldemort none of that will matter any longer. There will not even be a Hogwarts, and all of our dreams will die,' said Harry, his eyes slid to the floor in despair.

In a flurry of mad wings, through the bedroom window, flew the same little ebon owl. It plopped onto the bed Harry slept on, and then rolled on its side, wriggling to stand on its feet. Harry laughed.

'Here we go again,' said Harry, as he reached down to retrieve the note the little owl delivered. Away the ball of feathers flew. Its mission was accomplished.

'Harry, what is it? Why the downcast expression?' asked Hermione, after Harry read the note.

'It says: "The Dursleys need you."' Harry looked up at Ron, whose worried expression mirrored his.

'The Dursleys need me?' Harry had to read it over, as he tried to make sense from it. 'Since when?' he asked. 'When have they ever needed me? If anything, they're happy I'm gone.'

'Harry,' said Hermione, now standing and reading the parchment note with Ron.

'I think you had better take this seriously. I believe there is trouble,' she said, dead grim.

'I think she's right,' said Ron.

Harry looked at the note again, and then he remembered something that gave him chills.

'I hope it's not another Dementor after Dudley. I remember what happened the last time one came after him,' said Harry, looking down in gloom.

'I'm going to go there now. It's early yet. I hope I'll be back before lunch. It turns my stomach upside down having to see them again,' said Harry, while he Apparated to the Dursleys' home.

On the front lawn, Harry appeared from nothing, this was a feat he was proud to have finally mastered; it certainly saved him time getting to places. It even helped him arrive in places he despised more than anything, like the Dursleys'. Aunt Petunia's garden seemed to be flourishing. Yet, the air carried a hint of disaster. The scent of wood burning surrounded Harry. He turned, facing the houses across the street and that is when it hit him.

'Oh my ...'

There, across the street, stood the burned remains of three houses in a row. He ran to the Dursleys' house, when nobody answered the front door, his worry deepened. Harry sprinted through the partly opened back gate that never normally would be ajar and skidded to a stop with the horror before him. The entire back patio, chairs, table, back door, and eves were charred; all that remained were black burnt outlines of what used to be there.

'Aunt Petunia!' called Harry. 'Anyone here!' he shouted, and then stopped to listen. A faint cry came from an over turned bench, blackened by intense heat.

'No, no, no,' came a faint whisper of a voice. It was a woman's voice. Harry ran to the bench, turning it over all to see Aunt Petunia huddled against the fence, sitting hunched over with her head resting on her knees. She kept repeating something through her blind horror.

'No, no, not like Lily, not like Lily,' she said, oblivious to Harry's presence.

She suddenly looked up at Harry.

'Harry save them. Save them, he killed Lily he's here, he's HERE!' she screamed with hysteria.

'Aunt Petunia, who is here?'

'Voldemort!' she shrieked and passed out. Traumatised from hearing Voldemort's name, Harry nearly fell backwards. He gathered his composure and took a deep breath.

Harry left her to look for Mr. Dursley and Dudley. They were nowhere to be seen. His eyes swept the entire destroyed patio hardly believing the scene before him. Then something made him feel the urge to look up. There, hung high in a tree, were Mr. Dursley and Dudley. Harry went cold, thinking Voldemort killed them in revenge for not being able to find him. He didn't like the Dursleys for the wicked way they treated him through the years, but he wouldn't want them killed. Harry climbed the tree. He reached out to Mr. Dursley, after crawling out on a long thick limb, which hung above him. He slapped his uncle's fat cheek in effort to revive him and did the same to Dudley. The branch they hung on clearly wouldn't bear their combined weight for much longer. It creaked under the heavy load. Between the two, it would be like holding an elephant. Mr. Dursley woke up, with widened eyes, and yelled very loud when he realised where he was. He began kicking his legs, as if he could run away. He yelled again, when he saw Dudley hanging not far away.

'Dudley, where are we!' He looked at Harry, and then at his son, then back at Harry with a furrowed brow of anger. 'Did you do this, Harry?' screamed a hysterical Mr. Dursley. 'Was that freak one of your weird friends?'

Harry looked on in shock at his angry uncle, but expected this reaction from someone who treated him like a dog all through the years. 'Nothing changes,' thought Harry, as he listened to the tirade of blame, flow from his uncle's mouth. All Dudley did was scream to get down, yet his father couldn't stop placing blame. CRACK! Before Harry could think, down went Mr. Dursley and Dudley, falling hard to the charred ground below.

Harry raced down the branch, jumping off where it grew out from its trunk. They both fell on their backs looking at the sky. Soon Mr. Dursley and his son stirred and sat up.

'Look, Aunt Petunia is over there. She fainted from shock. I didn't do this, I only tried to help you.'

Harry could see his uncle looked dazed and so did Dudley. He revived his aunt, and after some difficult times, he managed to bring them all into the kitchen.

Harry's aunt staggered to the table, where her husband and son sat. Harry cringed to hear more accusations, yet stayed making sure they were all right.

'So, what happened?' asked Harry.

'He came from nowhere - he came. We were eating breakfast and poof there he was,' his Aunt Petunia said. Her welling tears began to spill.

'A scary face, all white and twisted it was,' said Dudley.

'He wore a long black cloak with a hood attached. His eyes, they glowed red and narrowed, as if the very creation of evil,' sobbed Aunt Petunia.

'He wanted you, Harry. You brought this to our door!' yelled his uncle, pointing a fat finger at him.

'Shut up!' screamed Harry's aunt, her piercing glare directed at Harry's Uncle Vernon.

'Dumbledore warned he would someday come here for him. I know who it was, I know who Voldemort is.' She hung her head and sobbed into the table.

'He's the same that killed my sister.' She sobbed even louder.

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock.

'So you cared? All these years you made me think you hated my mother. You really cared for her?' said Harry in total disbelief.

'Of course I cared. I know what happened. I thought if I kept you away from their world, you might stand a chance. I kept hoping he would give up. I don't know, I wanted to think nothing in this world could be so malevolent to search out a child for years on end and kill him.'

Harry couldn't believe what he heard from her. Could she really have cared all these years, and shown hardly a glimmer of love? Indeed, this seemed odd at best. It was clear that his uncle felt the same way he always did. His venom poured well, but oddly enough, he heard nothing derogatory from Dudley.

'So what's Dumbledore doing about all this?' she asked.

Harry felt a cold chill of a memory invade his thoughts.

'He's dead, Aunt Petunia.' Harry hung his head.

'No! How? What will happen to you now?' she asked.

'I have my orders. I'm on a mission given to me by Dumbledore before he died. A mission to destroy the beast, Voldemort.'

She only stared at Harry, with concern written over her face. He felt good about knowing she really seemed to care after all. Knowing this made things a bit easier to tolerate. It felt nice that his whole family didn't hate him, at least one didn't. Harry knew they'd be all right. Nobody got hurt. Nothing but the house here and there. He felt he could go.

'Well, I should go, since nobody is really injured. By the way, what happened across the street?'

'More from that Voldemort, and his friends. They went on a rampage. They destroyed homes and people, too. They screamed out: "The war has begun." When they were done, some sort of scary object lit the sky above the block. It looked like a scull outlined in light,' said a shaking Aunt Petunia.

'Death Eaters,' said Harry.

'What?'

'Voldemort's followers. They do most of his dirty work; what you saw was the Dark Mark, his symbol. Aunt Petunia, I didn't want to tell you this, but since I know they've all been here, instead of just Voldemort, I think you need to know. These Death Eaters are dark wizards, and they all hate Muggles, people who don't have magic in them. They want to rid the world of all people like you, uncle and Dudley. They only want pure-bloods to live. Voldemort is mad, as in crazy.'

Harry's uncle, Dudley and his aunt gasped in unison.

'Stay low. Be careful and don't go out alone, especially at night. Nothing's safe until they're stopped,' said Harry.

They were speechless; Harry knew he must leave. He bid them good-bye, still surprised by his aunt's reaction, and when out of sight down the street, he Apparated back to Ron's.

~~~

'So, he was there. Really there at your uncle's house?' asked Ron, rapidly going pale.

'Yes, and so were a few of his dear friends. I wonder if Malfoy helped?'

'You mean Death Eaters, too?' asked Hermione.

'Yeah, they burned some houses down across form my aunt and uncle's, and lit the Dark Mark after they were done. I even think they killed several people on their rampage. They also announced it was only the beginning of the war. She heard one of them say it,' said Harry, the look of anger returning, tightening his lips.

'This is bad, Harry. I hoped the wizard war would be a lot later. Voldemort is eager to get into power, since Dumbledore has been eliminated,' said Hermione.

'We really need to find the remaining Horcruxes,' said Ron.

'I know, but where?' said a frustrated Harry.

Hermione and Ron shook their heads, wishing they had the answer.

'Harry, Harry, come down here at once. Something came for you while you were out,' yelled Mrs. Weasley from downstairs.

'Your mum knew I was out?' Harry looked at Ron surprised.

'Yes, she came up here and I told her. She knew it was important, I showed her the parchment. Don't worry, Harry, she's not angry,' said Ron.

Harry headed down stairs, followed by Ron and Hermione.

'This parchment came for you, Harry. That same little ebon owl delivered it,' she added.

Harry stared, as did Ron and Hermione.

'Another one?' said Harry, as he opened the parchment tied with a red silk ribbon.

'This is a strange one, a riddle.

'Seek the office of darkened arts, on smooth porcelain find his mark.'

Harry looked up at Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Hermione.

'Something smooth and porcelain in Snape's office? Unless he's not teaching that subject anymore.'

'He is, Harry. I just got your class list for the final year, and his name's on the staff listings under: Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts,' said Mrs. Weasley.

'I have to find out what all of this means. So far, every one of these little deliveries have been useful. If Snape's involved, I have to do it. It must be ten times more sinister, and very important,' said Harry, with a glare of hatred creeping back into his eyes from the mere thought of Snape.

'Hermione and I are going with you,' said Ron, as his mother opened her mouth to say something, however Harry chimed in before she had a chance.

'No. This is a one-man job. The less people in his office the better. School is starting in a week. He's bound to be there. In this case I think it's better if I go alone.'

Mrs. Weasley looked elated, yet still feared for Harry's safety.

'Well, I don't approve of any of this snooping. Harry, you're like a son to me and Hermione's like a daughter. If anything were to happen to any of you it would cut me to the quick.' Her face was tight with concern, and her eyes glistened with tears ready to spill.

'Don't worry, I'll be careful.' Harry's eyes glinted, and he wore a subtle smile across his lips. Mrs. Weasley left for the kitchen to get dinner started, muttering to herself all the way. 'These days so much mischief about. So many things to snuff out a life. Makes a person want to stay in bed...' These were the last words she uttered as she closed the kitchen door.

'When are you leaving, Harry?' asked a befuddled Ron, still running the riddle through his mind.

'After dinner.' Ron blinked with surprise.

'So soon? I figured you'd wait until the next day, early.'

'No. I think it may give me a better chance if Snape is around, to avoid him. It's after dinner at Hogwarts now, so he might be relaxing in his chamber in the dungeons. This will give me the perfect chance to look for what ever this riddle's talking about.'

'What do you think it is?' asked Ron.

'It's something collectable, I'd say,' chimed Hermione.

'Why do you say that?' asked Harry, looking quite interested in what she had to say.

'Easy, my parents collect fine ceramic pieces. My dad is a fanatic for ancient collectables from all over the world. He puts them on display, and admires them with his friends all the time,' said Hermione with a smile.

'You could be right. Thanks for the tip. I'll be looking for something like that then,' said Harry.

Dinner proceeded well. Ginny stayed the night at her friend Camil's; she was in her sixth year at Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley had to work late, because of the recent rash of Death Eater disturbances. They were busy placing memory charms, so the Muggles would forget all they saw. Mrs. Weasley stared at Harry, knowing his task after dinner; she wasn't happy about any of it. However, she knew he had to do it, it was expected, and something Dumbledore would have wanted him to do. Nevertheless, nothing said she had to like it.

After the last dish was taken and washed, and everyone felt satisfied, Harry Apparated from the kitchen table to Hogwarts. He didn't want to make it any harder on the ones he deeply cared for. He could only appear by the gates, being impossible to Apparate anywhere else in Hogwarts.

Carefully, he made his way through the castle grounds and through the great front doors. He noticed there weren't any prefects out yet; for school wasn't in session for the year, so he remained in the shadowed edge of rooms, only emerging to climb the staircases, which led to the DADA office. Finally, there, Harry stood in front of the door to a room, which held a secret he knew he must learn. He reached for the cold brass handle, twisting it with a creak, which echoed loudly though the dark and empty halls. Harry looked around, and entered the small office. The first thing Harry wanted to know is where Snape could be. He turned completely around, his eyes sweeping every inch of the room, lined with dark leather bound books, and various bottles of this and that. Harry felt a chill, when he glanced over a great deal of indescribable items, lining the many shelves along each wall.

'Snape sure liked to read, he has more books than some libraries,' said Harry to himself.

He walked straight ahead to a dark mahogany desk, which sat against the back wall. Harry thought the illumination poor, but didn't dare switch on a light. He kept his wand lit, like a flashlight and hoped he wouldn't need more. The wand-light reflected, in an uncanny way, off the desk and spilled onto a far counter to his right. The dancing wand-light washed over an assortment of books, skeletons of odd creatures, a vase and a large wand holder.

'Hang on,' Harry said in surprise, his attention peeked.

Harry shined his wand on a large vase. He walked over to the counter it sat upon staring at it; he closely scrutinised every angle. Harry began to run the riddle through his mind again.

'Seek the office of darkened arts, on smooth porcelain find his mark.'

Harry stood, staring at the object, thinking.

'Porcelain,' he whispered. 'This is porcelain. It's also a collectable, as Hermione thinks the thing I'm looking for could be. I wonder.'

He went on to inspect it further, his hand feeling the smooth perfection of the fine piece.

'What's this?' He felt a small-cold swirl on the backside of the smooth vase.

He turned it around to face him. He needed a better view.

'That's it. A silver coiled snake. The mark of Salazar Slytherin.' Harry took a quick breath in realisation.

'This could be another Horcrux.' He paused, thinking he heard something. 'I have to get ...'

His train of thought halted, because of sudden footsteps approaching the office door. He ducked behind the desk, crawling under it as far as he could fit, shrouding his feet under some kind of blanket, or shawl on the floor. He hoped Snape wouldn't see him. That's all he needed, and the low molasses thick voice approaching the door, unmistakably was his.

But wait ... there was another voice - a caring voice - a voice he trusted, and never thought he'd hear in the presence of Snape, after he killed Dumbledore. The voice of - Lupin.

'They aren't all here. I have a few, and found one of them before it all happened. This is the newest one,' Snape said to Lupin, opening the door to the office to show him the vase. Snape looked closer at the vase. 'Funny, I could have sworn I positioned it differently when I left.' His beetle-black eyes swept the room.

'No Matter, Severus, it looks perfect. I think you're right about it,' said Lupin, staring intensely at the vase.

Harry couldn't tell what he was referring to, being behind the desk. He didn't dare make himself known. He just listened. The mere sound of Snape's thick voice aroused anger in Harry, for what he did to Dumbledore. Yet, he somehow felt pity for him as well. He didn't want to feel this. He wanted to hate him. Feeling sorry for him made it harder to hate him for what he'd done. Harry shook his head, and returned to the matter of figuring out what Lupin was doing with Snape.

'Did you find your roster, Severus?' asked Lupin still scrutinizing the vase.

'Yes, I also found my Potions book. I'll have to make more, I'm getting low, and it takes so long to ripen,' said Snape looking through it carefully, making sure he had all of his ingredients.

Lupin turned to leave as did Snape, and as they left the room Harry heard Lupin say something rather weird; Harry worried about what it could mean.

'He'll be waiting in the new office in three days. He said that's where we'll meet from now on.'

Click - the door closed, and Harry felt very confused, as the mumbled fading voices of Snape and Lupin disappeared with distance.

'What is Lupin and Snape up to? What new office?' wondered Harry, now standing behind the desk and staring at the door.

He grabbed the vase and made his way back to the Hogwarts gate. He Apparated back to the Weasleys' and had much to say.

In the Weasleys' living room appeared Harry. He felt tired and worried. Harry carried the vase into the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley had just finished cleaning before bed.

'Hi, Harry,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'I'm glad you're back. Ron and Hermione are upstairs in his room. Actually, they're waiting for you,' she said with a smile, her eyes falling upon the large vase Harry held.

'Is that something special?' she asked.

'Yes, I think it might be. It could be a Horcrux, but I'm not sure yet.' Mrs. Weasley's face went pale and expressionless.

'Ron, Hermione!' she suddenly called loudly. 'Get down here now!'

A clamouring of feet sounded down the stairs, as Ron and Hermione arrived in the kitchen. They saw Harry and the vase, stopping dead in their tracks.

'Are we in trouble?' asked an anxious Ron through worried eyes.

Hermione's attention glued itself to the vase and Harry, assessing his expression very carefully.

'No, you're not in trouble. I wanted you to come down and see what Harry has. If it turns out to be exciting or vital to his mission, I want to know first hand,' said Mrs. Weasley.

Harry put the vase down on the kitchen table and stood back. He pointed out the mark of Slytherin, and what he heard Lupin and Snape talking about.

'Lupin, was with Snape?' asked Hermione surprised.

'Yes, they were friendly and acting like nothing happened. Do you think Lupin changed sides?' asked Harry, looking down and hoping to hear a firm 'no'.

'I hope not,' said Mrs. Weasley, with exasperation written all over her face. Her eyes wore the veil of concern after hearing this.

'They said they were to meet him in three days in the new office,' said Harry.

'Do you think they were talking about Voldemort?'

'Harry, how could you think.' Hermione paused, thinking harder. 'How could you think he'd change sides? Lupin, after all these years and his friendship with your parents. I don't think so.'

'After what Snape did, I feel anything is possible. He seemed loyal to Dumbledore. Dumbledore even trusted him beyond the normal. Look what he ended up doing.'

'Well, Harry, I don't know ...' said Ron, looking at the floor in speculation.

'I don't even want to think about it. It's as if the world has turned upside-down and everyone you trusted are not who you thought they were. It makes you question every one,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'I certainly hope you're wrong, Harry.'

'I never thought I'd say this, but I don't trust Lupin any longer,' said Harry.

'I don't think I ever will, until I understand what's going on.'

Harry turned to the vase again, and tried to focus and remember the exposure spell Dumbledore taught him, during one of their sessions. He pulled out his wand, which he held in a special wand holder on his right outer thigh.

'I hope I can remember the spell Dumbledore taught me.'

'What spell, Harry? Maybe I've heard of it,' said Hermione, standing beside Ron.

'It's a spell called: "Patefacio-Rumpo-Animus",' said Harry.

'An expose soul spell. I've read little about them. It's very advanced, Harry. From the little I know it should tell us if part of Voldemort's soul is in there. If it is, that's a Horcrux.' Hermione looked at the vase with keen eyes of interest, probing its surface like an archaeologist looking for its origin.

'Stand back everyone. I'm going to give the spell a try,' said Harry with eager eyes.

Harry stepped back from the table it stood on. Ron, his mother and Hermione took a step back as well, in a mix of quiet anticipation. Harry lifted his wand high above the vase; he said the spell loud and firm, not deviating from the rhythm of the words, 'Patefacio-Rumpo-Animus.' Everyone stood still, not a sound did they make, and even breathing would have made too much noise. The seconds ticked by like hours surely something had to give.

'Why isn't anything happening?' asked Harry.

'Dumbledore said it should show us his soul.'

'Maybe it's not ...'

Ron froze before he got the remaining words out.

'Bloody hell ... look,' shouted Ron in terror.

The vase began to glow a shade of green; the same shade of the Slytherin robes.

'Plug your noses,' said Hermione, holding her hand over her face from the foul rotten egg stench entering the room.

'Gahh ... that's horrid. What's that awful smell,' yelled Mrs. Weasley, looking as if she'd faint.

'I don't know, but something dark is coming. Look over by the door,' said Harry, pointing to a large ebon cloud formation, drifting towards the kitchen door from outside.

'It's so dark. It looks like thick black smoke, and ... and it's streaming under the door,' stammered Ron, now even more frightened than before.

They watched part of the thick ebon cloud, from outside, float across the kitchen and hover over the green glowing vase. The cloud, the size of a dinner plate, began to rotate. As it spun, it grew taller, until it looked like a three-foot spinning shaft.

'I don't like this, Harry,' uttered Ron, now standing behind Harry and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley just kept looking at it, completely lost for words, but the look on her face spoke the words she couldn't make.

The long spinning ebon shaft stopped, and grew pointed on one end, like a giant dagger. A sudden piercing shrill emerged from the green glowing vase. As the shrill became louder, a face appeared on its surface. The face of Tom Riddle, the same from the diary Ginny found a few years ago. The cloud-dagger plunged into the vase, shattering it into thousands of tiny shards. The scream stopped after the last shard dropped. In a rush of wind, the vase and cloud-dagger vanished.

After their eyes returned to normal size, from the shock of seeing a real part of Voldemort's soul destroyed and a real Horcrux, they could breathe again. The air was clean and the room refreshed.

'Amazing,' said Hermione, still looking where the vase shattered. 'I've never seen one. I've never seen a Horcrux before. I really didn't think they were real. I guess his soul is destroyed,' said Hermione, now looking at Harry for an answer.

'Yes, that's what happens when a piece of his soul is destroyed, I remember.'

'You mean that whole mess with Ginny and the diary,' asked Mrs. Weasley, sad with the harsh memory of almost losing her little girl in the Chamber of Secrets.

'Yes. I saw how he screamed. I remember his face. I saw how it twisted and how he wailed for mercy. I remember.' Harry looked down, tormented by the memory.

Nobody said a word. They all knew he'd suffered a lot during that time, and nobody wanted to dredge any more unpleasant memories that night.

'I'll tell ya one thing,' said Harry, looking up at all of them.

'Snape is worse than I thought. This did come from his office. This means he's working closely with his father, Voldemort. Why else have his Horcrux in his office? He must have been protecting it for him. And Lupin, I won't tell him anything until I know what he's doing with Snape. That also includes Tonks, since she's Lupin's wife,' said Harry with an expression of anger.

'I can't believe Lupin would betray us, Harry,' said a shocked Mrs. Weasley.

'Well I can. You didn't hear what I heard, and how friendly they were. They also talked about meeting someone in a new office, as I've said. It's probably Voldemort,' said Harry as everyone gasped with the thought of their trusted friends Lupin and Tonks changing sides. What a scary and horrible thing.

'And what of Hogwarts? I wonder what will happen there now that a Death Eater is teaching for them. Snape is up to something for sure. I just wish I knew what, and how he got McGonagall to trust him is amazing. After he killed her dearest friend, Dumbledore. None of this makes sense,' said Harry, shaking his head.

'Well, it's time we all went to bed. It's half past midnight, and you all need some rest,' said Mrs. Weasley, heading towards the staircase.

'Your father will be working late again. He will be pleased to know Voldemort is a little weaker tonight.'

'That's right, Harry. He is weaker, you destroyed a part of him tonight,' said Ron with a half smile.

'I know. That's the good part. Only three to go, and then he's a mortal,' said Harry as they all followed up the staircase to bed. It had been a long night and they all needed rest.