Harry Potter's Worries

            ~~~~~~~Chapter 3~~~~~~~

The room was slowly bathed in golden light as the sun rose. Harry couldn't decide if he'll open the rest of the presents or just go down for breakfast. He tidied up his room a bit and got rid of the shredded paper. He proceeded to put his presents in the safety of the loose floorboard under his bed, he didn't want Dudley to snack on his sweets. Harry tried to lift Hagrid's present. It weighed like a ton. How on earth did Hedwig carry this?It must be an extra special rock-cake...Harry opened it and inside was---

A rock.

Harry knew Hagrid meant well, so there must be SOMETHING special about this rock. Harry opened Hagrid's letter and read:

Hello Harry!

How's things with the muggles? Hope you're OK,

if they give you a hard time, just send us an owl and we'll drop by!

That rock's from France Harry, Olympe said you might like it.

Just tap it with your wand.

Hope you're well,

    Hagrid

Tap it with my wand? Then what will happen? Harry thought as he rummaged in his drawer for his wand.

He took out his wand and gave the unsmoothed rock a delicate tap. He shook his head and turned way to open the last present. He stopped short on his tracks as he heard the rock shudder. Soft music bounced around the room. "Bouree de Thiers et de Saint-Gervais" the rock said after its performance. Harry gaped at the rock. A musical rock.

So Madame Maxime thought he might like it. He did, if only it were a bit lighter. The last package was wrapped with some plum colored material. Maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed to have an ominous glow around it. As he reached for it, a sudden thought crossed his mind. Ron, Hermione and Hagrid gave him presents, Sirius was dead so he can't possibly send him something. Or can he?

Harry's hands trembled as he unwrapped the box. Inside was a rock hewn cup with rune symbols around the rim.

"Whoa, this is...a pensieve!"

So it was. The pensieve was empty, except for one swirling memory. Harry prodded it with his wand, and the wispy thought revolved in the cup. A clear image formed at the rim, showing him a vision, no, a memory of the past. It was his parents' wedding. Harry took the cup closer to his face, marveling at the Potter's reception.

It wasn't grand, it was just simple. Long tables filled with food were lined up in what must have been their backyard. There were many guests, everyone was happy for the newly-wed couple. And there with his parents were Sirius, Remus and Peter.

Harry longed to go inside the memory, he wanted to take a closer look, but resisted the urge. He didn't know how to get back out. Past experiences taught him that only the owners of the memory could take him out. So whose memory is this?

He could only think of one person---Dumbledore.