Harry Potter & The Last Memories ...Year Seven

The autumn breeze carried an icy chill, howling through the trees, and meadows like a warning of change, and a lot was changing, too. Ginny left for Hogwarts, once again, leaving three people behind, Harry, Ron and Hermione. Life at Hogwarts wouldn't be the same with them missing.

The round yellow moon hung in the sky like a giant eye watching. Perhaps the way Voldemort does. The object of all the chaos, Voldemort sat in the ebon shadows of one room in his enormous draughty home. His expression twisted into a ghoulish face. His refined features of the past were no more. The Dark Lord Voldemort's ashen skin radiated in the dim light, from a lone candle sitting on his desk. He sat there hunched and dishevelled in his long hooded black robe. Flickering candlelight illuminated his many books (all dark) that lined the right wall. A tall shadow stretched down the hallway. Voldemort sensed one of his Death Eaters was coming to meet him.

'Severus,' Voldemort hissed.

'Master.' Severus bowed, staring directly at Voldemort with glittering eyes.

'I want you to tell me, why Potter didn't attend school this term.'

Severus picked his words carefully, straightening from his bow and settling into an overstuffed chair, in front of Voldemort's desk.

'I don't know. Maybe he's sick, or maybe he feels he can't graduate, for he always was a slacker,' Severus spat with a crooked grin.

Voldemort stared at his son, with empty, cold eyes.

'Father, I,' Severus's words slid out and halted. 'I mean - master.' He looked down as if he swallowed poison.

'Never call me father! No one is to know that! My father didn't have room for me, as I don't for you. You were a mistake, I once made and don't need reminding.' Voldemort's eyes crossed in rage.

Severus remained looking down.

'You're nothing more to me than a servant. Do you understand? Just because you killed Dumbledore in place of that stupid boy, doesn't make anything better between us. You work for me and nobody else. I think being with that old man has made you soft,' he screeched and coughed from his dubious health.

Severus listened, emotionless. His slave he was, and to this he felt bound.

'I want you to find out where he is and what he's doing. I feel a bit weak. I can't leave here. Do you have my potion?' he hissed with great contempt.

'Yes, I do,' said Severus. He pulled a small corked flask from his deep cloak pocket, handing Voldemort the greenish thin potion across the desk that tasted like spearmint.

After tilting his head, back to swallow all the mixture Voldemort leered at Severus again through his narrow snakelike eyes.

'I've been thinking,' he said, his face adopted a menacing smile, one Severus knew couldn't be good.

'I'm considering mind screening all of my Death Eaters.' He surveyed Severus's worried expression.

'Surely, master you do not have to go to those lengths. If someone is hiding something from you, I could find out. I could do it,' said Severus with a strangely anxious look creeping across his face.

Voldemort leaned forward in his armchair studying Severus, who sat across from him.

'Don't think you're free from my list. In fact, you're the main reason I want to do this. I want to perform the Patefacio-Mentis on you. I want to make sure I can trust the ones I use,' said Voldemort with a wicked glint in his narrow heavy lidded eyes.

Severus said nothing. His mind raced knowing Voldemort didn't trust him, or perhaps he wanted to make sure everything looked as it appeared. Severus knew the spell in question could dig through any Occlumency he practiced in Voldemort's presence. This spell was new, and hardly ever tried. Voldemort invented it. Inventing spells is something Voldemort excelled in; a talent Severus inherited, but never shared the news with his demented father.

'I see,' said Severus in his usual silky, unflinching tone.

'We'll discuss this further soon. I feel far too weak to continue this evening,' Voldemort hissed with anger.

'My soul's too thin; I will need one of my Horcruxes soon.'

Severus only looked. He was quietly speculating, and he knew where at least one of them was. On the other hand, did he know the beautiful vase he'd assumed Malfoy took home was a Horcrux? Severus left. Soon afterwards his father fell asleep. Severus returned to his chamber in Hogwarts. An owl hooted in the trees above, flying across the yellow eye of the moon. The castle door slammed shut, and another evening ended.

~*~

Well, at least for some. Harry slept restlessly, twisting his sheets and blankets around him like the wrappings of a mummy. Ron couldn't sleep, because of Harry's loud bellowing.

'No! Ginny, NO!' screamed Harry in his sleep.

'Amazing he's still asleep,' mouthed Ron from his bed across the room.

Then a loud THUD sounded and Harry lay flat on his back, on the floor along the bed. He sat up bound by his bedding that he still wore like bandages. He shook his head and groped for his glasses, he'd knocked to the floor with his flailing arms and legs.

'That must have been some nightmare, and about my sister,' said Ron a bit interested to find out more.

Harry untangled his bedding and sat on the edge of the bed.

'Yeah, it was.' Harry closed his large eyes, and blinked to focus.

'Ron, I saw something awful. I saw her sprawled on the ground, in the street.' Harry paused trying to recreate everything.

'She's at Hogwarts, Harry. She's fine,' said Ron sitting on his bed half under the covers.

'I hope so. In my nightmare, she was dead. I think it was.' He paused again. 'Yeah, I think it was Knockturn Alley. But, something looked different there. The whole place was thick with dark smoke.'

'It's just a dream. She's all right.'

'Yeah, Yeah, she must be,' Harry's words came out with a sigh. 'It was all so real, and every time I get a weird or scary dream, I wonder if it's not Voldemort putting it there. I wonder if he showed me something he did, or is thinking about,' said Harry.

'Nah, I doubt it. Just go to sleep. She's okay, I'm sure, we would have gotten an owl by now,' said Ron in confidence, pulling his covers over his head.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't sleep. He sat up most of the night thinking about the images running wild through his mind. This is when he wished he learned Occlumency from Snape. He even wondered secretly if Snape put the images there. Something more thought provoking entered his mind; about what Snape told him the night he killed, Dumbledore. He wondered if it was a clue concerning what Voldemort would do. "Keep your mouth shut, and your mind closed." Could he have known he'd suffer an assault again by Voldemort through dreams? Yet, why tell him something helpful? Harry dismissed any thoughts of that being a fact. He felt strongly about this dream, and planned to visit Hogwarts to see Ginny. He also needed to visit Knockturn Alley. His thoughts fell long and hard about it; suspicion led him to think that maybe the other Horcrux could be there. An idea that gave him cold-chills knowing how awful the place was the last time he found himself stuck there. Many ideas raced through Harry's mind, as the night blurred into morning, the twittering birds greeted the crisp autumn air, and cloud shrouded sky.

~~*~~

'Knockturn Alley? You can't, Harry. It's too dangerous,' shouted Mrs. Weasley, standing over him as a mother hen protecting her chicks.

'I have to find the next Horcrux, and I think it could be there,' said Harry from his kitchen chair, as Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes.

'Harry, it was a nightmare, let go of it. That place has a sinister reputation. It is bound to be worse since Voldemort is back,' said Hermione, picking at her food in her plate with her fork.

'She's right, Harry.' Ron's face adopted a look of irritation, by the expression on Harry's face he could tell he wouldn't listen to anyone about this. 'Oh, sure be that way,' said Ron with a scowl.

'Harry, I know there's no convincing you not to go. If you must, we will come too. I haven't said much to George and Fred over this past summer, so I planned a trip to Hogsmeade. On our way, we could visit Knockturn Alley. I don't like it, but together we may stand a better chance,' said Mrs. Weasley, aggressively clearing the table of the last dish.

Harry looked up at her with a slight smile. He knew Mrs. Weasley thought of him as another son. He felt much love there, a love that comforted him as his real mother and father would.

'Besides, I'd much rather get the bad part out-of-the-way first,' she said, rushing to get ready.

'Will dad come?'

'Yes, Ron. You don't think I'd go there without him. He's been to that place a few times; sent by the Ministry because of the Death Eaters. He knows Knockturn Alley better than I ever would,' she said with a worried glint in her eyes. With that, she hurried up the stairs to get ready for their mission to Knockturn Alley and Hogwarts.

~~*~~

The gloomy street of Knockturn Alley remained shrouded just a block down from the once bustling Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley housed many dark magical shops holding secrets from the time Salazar walked its weary stone paths. People who hung out there were not apt to receive an invitation for tea. Many a witch and wizard who went wrong hid in its secretive depths, a place many Death Eaters ventured, making it even more worrisome to visit.

'So, Harry,' said Arthur Weasley, 'where is it you want to go?'

Harry gazed down the darkened street, where many creepy witches and wizards wandered. Most of them appeared dirty and about all of them wore black, a familiar shade that reminded Harry of Snape.

'These people must be like Snape.' Harry paused, with the look of pure anger and revulsion across his face. 'They dress like him, and must all be evil, like him.'

'Harry,' Mrs. Weasley replied, as her hand shot up to her mouth meaning to hush.

'You don't want them to hear you,' she whispered.

Harry thought outside his rage.

'No, I'm sorry.'

They walked down the dirty street, following its dank turns as it twisted its way by shop after shop. Some windows were dark as pitch; others had odd displays featured on their shelves, of shrunken heads, and unwarranted magical books. Some books were for outlawed potions and others for outlawed spells. A multitude of unusual items populated the halls of each shop, as they made their way through the scary section of the dark wizarding community.

Harry stopped in dismay. 'I can't see anything that looks like my dream. Nothing here is familiar. I can't understand it. I thought - I thought ...'

'Maybe it was just a nightmare, Harry,' cut in Hermione, the look of relief etched across her face.

'Yes, maybe you're right. But no - it all seemed so real, more than a nightmare.'

'Now you sound like professor Trelawney,' sniped Ron, rolling his eyes.

'Let the boy talk, Ron,' Mrs. Weasley cut in.

'Maybe it was something yet to happen, and Voldemort put it there like he did when I saw Mr. Weasley hurt last year,' said Harry, looking down with the bad memory.

'Free potions, woman? Sure to turn your neighbours into dust by first moon. A good cure for pests,' said a scruffy, tattered old witch with a long sallow face full of boils and a sharp nose. She held a tray of many brews, which had countless dark and evil effects.

'Not today, madam,' said Mr. Weasley, taking that for his signal to leave.

'Come on, Harry. We'd better go. NOW!' Harry knew he was serious, and from the looks of the now angry witch and her even scarier looking friends, he knew they needed to leave.

Back down the less than inviting alley they went. Each sighed when they saw the sign for Diagon Alley again. It felt like emerging from a long dark tunnel, and finally seeing the light of the sun.

On to Hogsmeade and then Hogwarts castle. A wave of calm washed over them as they boarded the train for the quaint town of Hogsmeade, in the Scottish Highlands.

'Why not Apparate?' asked Harry.

'Apparate? I'd rather go back to that dark passage,' said Mrs. Weasley furrowing her brow.

'Mrs. Weasley hates to Apparate, Harry. Sets her nerves on edge,' said Mr. Weasley.

Harry nodded as he boarded the train. Comfortable in his seat, Harry looked out the window while all the country scenery rushed by and the colours relaxed him; he fell off to sleep. Harry felt a bit more settled since his visit to the dark alley. He started to think he may have been wrong and it was just a nightmare as Hermione believed. The train halted with a bump rousing him awake.

'We're here,' said Ron, smiling a broad freckled smile. Hermione beamed wide with twinkling eyes; they'd both missed Hogwarts so much. Harry did too. Yet, his mission called him from his long-time home. They left the train and gazed across the giant lake. The tall noble castle stood proud, as it's done for ten centuries. Its lofty spires reaching to the heavens as if embracing it all, Harry never realised how much he missed being there until this moment, even if he'd visited it periodically through the summer. It appeared as an old friend, and he wanted to run there and never look back, until the sharp reality burned his mind that Dumbledore wouldn't be there. It indeed wouldn't be as the old times, for if it were, he'd still be there alongside Hermione and Ron, happily completing his seventh year.

They turned to face Hogsmeade and noticed twisting wisps of dark smoke floating high in the air above the Hogsmeade gate, at least a mile down the street.

'Do you suppose something's on fire?' asked Mrs. Weasley.

'I don't know, Molly,' said Arthur Weasley as they all walked down the street that lead to the quaint wizarding town of Hogsmeade. The closer they came; it became obvious something wasn't right.

'Dad, it looks like there's a huge fire in town,' said Ron beginning to worry.

Hermione looked at Harry who had a stunned look about him, his eyes fixed on the darkening skies bursting with thick smoke.

'Harry?' said Hermione.

He said nothing he just walked straight ahead, never deviating from his path. All he wanted was to get there. All he wanted is for everything to be all right. They walked for another few minutes now about a quarter mile away, and Harry stopped smack in his tracks.

'This is like my dream!' Harry screamed, breathing fast from fear. 'This is what I saw.'

The Weasleys and Hermione looked shocked, remembering what he said happened in his dream they hoped nothing else would come true. They walked cautiously towards town entering its tall gates, and swaying sign, now hanging by a lazy rope ready to plummet to the dirty ground. In the centre of town, they stood and stared blankly into the black-swirling lifting smoke surrounding them.

'Look - look at everything,' was all Mrs. Weasley could manage to say through choking tears streaming down her red cheeks.

'Oh, Arthur, it's horrible, it's almost all gone,' she said sobbing into his shoulder.

'Bloody hell ...' was all Ron could say through his shock, and Hermione walked to Harry looking directly at his rueful face.

'I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Harry. It is all so horrible, really just horrible.'

Harry looked up with a harsh face.

'Yes, it is horrible. This is what war does,' he said starring out at the many buildings, which once housed so many wonderful people, and offered a multitude of interesting and grand times, now nothing more than rubble, sticks, and burning embers smouldering in the dirty street.

'This building we're standing by, or what used to be a building was, the Three Broomsticks. Remember all of the Butterbeer we drank here?' Hermione started to cry, with flooding memories, from all the misfortune surrounding her.

'Bloody hell, Harry - look.' Ron pointed across the war-torn street to a rumpled image in a burned down doorway, still smoking.

'No!' Harry ran to the body, and realised it wasn't Ginny as his first thoughts suggested. It was Madame Rosmerta.

'Is she - dead,' asked Hermione standing behind Harry, with the rest of the Weasleys.

Harry felt for her pulse, then looked up in Hermione's face.

'Yes, she's dead. Another victim of this war.'

'So many losses, so many people - so many innocent people,' wept Mrs. Weasley, hanging on to her husband. As the smoke cleared it became obvious the streets were littered with many dead bodies and suffering people clinging to life. There was a large amount of rubble, from destroyed buildings that strewn the ground. The choking smoke belched from the drainage holes in the stony-streets. As they walked through the war-zone, Harry appeared dazed hoping he'd wake from this nightmare.

'It looks like a scene from the Second World War. It's awful. Everything we used to know - it's gone. All the places to get food, drinks, candy, and jokes ...'

There was a long eerie pause. Each knew what the other thought.

'FRED AND GEORGE!' shouted Mrs. Weasley, hysterical.

Harry's stomach twisted in knots, as did Ron and Hermione's with the nasty thought of their joke shop destroyed. Visions of horror met each of their minds, and they ran as fast as they could towards the shop.

When they approached the tiny shop, Harry felt a dark wave of despair cross him and his nightmare came to life before his eyes. They found the shop burned, nothing left but a smoking hole; Ron, his parents, and Hermione all stood on the threshold of the once flourishing store, screaming their names in hopes they would answer.

'Fred - George,' they all screamed hoping for a laugh to break the bitter silence as their shattered hearts cried. Nothing.

'Fred - George ...' Mrs. Weasley cried. She cupped her hands on either side of her mouth and shouted louder. 'FRED - GEORGE!' she screamed, images of her twin sons blown to bits flashed through her mind.

The chilled wind blew as time moved as a tired soldier. Tears streamed down all their faces feeling the worst had happened. Ron's mother fell to her knees screaming for her loss, as Ron, Hermione, and Ron's father comforted her; Harry looked on in solitude, as his tears fell.

Mrs. Weasley fainted, but before she did she cried, 'My babies.'

Harry realised he didn't see Ginny anywhere, as in his dream. Could his visions have been about this scene instead? He felt a knot twist in his stomach. Harry didn't know what to do or where to look. He started running down alley after alley oblivious of danger or anything. All he wanted to do is make sure Ginny was all right. His heart pounded in his ears taking over any other sounds. Flashes of how she fell to Voldemort through the old Horcrux diary ran untamed through his mind. He desperately hoped she wasn't dead.

'Ginny, where are you, Ginny, don't be dead - PLEASE don't be dead, I love you!' Harry stopped, shocked at what he'd just said. Nevertheless, yes, he did love her and wanted her to be safe. Swirling veils of black smoke belched out of the drainage grates along the sombre streets making it hard to see who was standing or dead anywhere the farther he went.

Harry stopped running; he just stood in the middle of a lonely war-torn street panting with exhaustion and worry. He thought he heard a small voice, not too faraway. It sounded as if the voice cried. However, it was almost a whisper, a sound of someone barely able to get any sound past his or her lips. Maybe they were near death, Harry wondered.

'H-e-l-p,' came a small, and barely audible voice. A frail wispy toned female voice. Female! Harry rushed towards the voice attached to the beseeching. Through the darkness and choking dust, Harry spied a curled figure by a collapsed doorway. It was the Hog's Head, by the looks of it. The rest of the building remained as splintered sticks and powdered bricks. The closer he approached the rumpled figure Harry recognised it to be Ginny. He rushed to her side, and lifted her head.

'Ginny, wake up, oh you have to be all right you can't die.' He looked at her through welling tears. Her eyes remained closed and her face scratched with blood oozing from many deep wounds on her forehead.

'Ginny, I love you,' whispered Harry.

She slowly opened her eyes and managed a small smile, then passed out.

Harry smiled through thick tears, as he carried Ginny to her parents. They took her to Hogwarts a good place; Mrs. Pomfrey would soon put her right they all thought. They didn't tell her about her twin brothers, feeling they'd wait until she grew stronger. She remained there for a week, and Harry visited her regularly.

Occasionally, on his visits to see Ginny, Harry would notice Snape down a corridor, or two, and stare. Snape just looked however, his scowl, a little less vicious. Harry figured he felt comfortable knowing his master won.

~*~

'Well, Severus, why is Harry here? Did he return to school?' asked Lucius, with a crooked scowl, sitting on a fancy chair on the right from Snape.

'No, he has been visiting the Weasley girl. During the war in Hogsmeade, she was injured and taken to the infirmary. He has been her loyal companion,' Snape said through tight lips. A woman with long ebon hair, tall, with striking features and dark eyes chimed in.

'Should have died. One less Weasley,' Bellatrix chuckled, her sultry words dripping with venom.

Snape didn't change expression, in his usual unreadable air. Yet, Draco and his father equally found it humorous.

Snape eased into his sofa facing Bellatrix across the room, which he'd never liked from a child. They were fire and ice personalities, and for some reason her, great intellect never allowed her to trust him. Her fiery eyes narrowed in intense speculation about Severus Snape, even now.

Draco, who sat on the other end of the long sofa Snape occupied, seemed amused.

'Yeah, too bad the diary didn't finish her, father,' said Draco laughing, with the thought of a Weasley, perishing.

Lucius's eyes met Snape's as if trying to read his thoughts.

'You were never any good at that, Lucius. I'd give up if I were you.'

Snape glared, less than amused.

'Tell me, Severus - when's the next move? I grow tired of humouring these half-bloods and Mudbloods. The Dark Lord must be getting eager.' Lucius glowered at Snape.

'It is a bit bold discussing these matters at Hogwarts, Lucius. I mean, if I may, I've been cleared. However, if they suspect I am helping Voldemort in this war, I will be in Azkaban faster than I can say it,' replied Snape.

'See - see how elusive he is. He avoids answers when asked. Don't you see it, Lucius?' Bellatrix spat, her cold eyes stared into Snape's like icy daggers.

'He does have a point, Bella. It would be foolish, clueing them off, before the big move is made.'

She held her temper, yet her tight lips, and slits for eyes showed her intolerance for Snape, and as she tried to hold back her welling anger; changing her expression would prove impossible.

'Let us go. Draco, go back to your house,' ordered his father in his unwavering tone.

'But why? I don't need this place, as I've said before. When Voldemort takes over, Hogwarts won't even exist.'

'Enough, you obey my word, Draco,' shouted his father.

Draco turned leaving for Slytherin, and up to bed. He knew there was no arguing with his father.

'Very well, Severus. We'll meet at my home soon, and discuss this further.'

'Yes we will,' agreed Snape, glaring at Bellatrix as she and Lucius Malfoy left Snape's chamber at Hogwarts for home. Snape stared blankly at the door as it shut behind them with a heavy thud.