The Awakening Power

Chapter 4: The Marauders

* * *

Harry blinked his eyes and struggled to adjust to the dim light of the Hogwart's corridor in the Pensieve, a striking difference compared to the bright sunshine of the Weasley's yard. Standing next to Harry were Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna and the older Lupin, each of whom were looking about in fascination. James, the young Lupin and Peter were standing in the shadows as Sirius walked up to them.

"Whoa," said Ron loudly.

"Ron, shush!" said Hermione.

"Why? They can't hear us. It's a memory!"

Hermione glared at him. "I want to hear, shush!"

Harry smiled and turned his attention to the Marauders. Sirius had placed a large box on the floor, and James was opening it up.

"I've got them. They're brilliant. This is going to be bloody hilarious," said Sirius, smirking.

Reaching into the box, James pulled out a long object that resembled a green serpent. It hung limply from his hand as he inspected it critically. "It looks good. How do you make it work?"

"Once you get them in position, you wave your wand at them and say, 'Serpent Mischief!' Then they slither about the room chasing anything that moves. I even made some winged ones that fly!" Sirius said proudly. "They try to herd everyone toward the entrance."

James grinned mischievously. "Brilliant, indeed. The Slytherins should thank us for this. They love snakes, right?"

Laughing sycophantically, Peter looked back and forth between James and Sirius. Harry felt a chill seeing Peter with the others.

Young Lupin frowned disapprovingly. "They're not going to hurt anyone, right? Remember what happened last time... that sheet-shortening hex got a bit out of control."

"Relax, Moony. No worries. I made them so they'll only hover close to their victim but not actually touch them. Just chase them," said Sirius. Young Lupin seemed satisfied with that.

"All right, here's the plan," said James. "There should be a good crowd in the common room doing their homework. Wormtail, you'll take the box outside. Levitate the box, set them off, and dump them down the common room chimney. After you do the deed, meet us outside the Slytherin corridor. The stampede of Slytherins should be a sight to behold." He chortled gleefully.

"Everyone ready? Excellent. Marauder's Map!" James said, holding out his hand. Sirius slapped the map into his hand, like a nurse handing the surgeon a scalpel. James touched the map with his wand and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The map activated, showing the layout of Hogwarts.

"All right, Wormtail. The coast is clear. Head on out," James said, like a general commanding his troops.

Peter grinned at him and picked up the box. Suddenly his face fell. "Uh, what was the spell again?" he asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes at him. "Serpent Mischief."

"Oh, yes. All right." Peter headed off down the corridor to begin his mission.

"Come on, let's go!" said James, checking the map. "Everything looks clear."

Harry and the group followed them as they sneaked through the Hogwarts corridors toward the Slytherin part of castle. They wound down several staircases, and the stone began to appear damp as they descended below the level of the lake.

They took up position around the corner from the Slytherin door, out of sight. They waited, the three of them snickering at intervals. Every so often James would sneak a look at the map to make certain no one was coming up to catch them.

Harry was struck by how young and innocent they appeared.

Abruptly the Slytherin door slid open and out ran a livid teacher being chased by a large quantity of Sirius's serpents. His face was pinched in anger as he waved his arms around violently trying to beat off the flying ones. Harry had never seen him before; the man the was tall and slender, with short black hair, dark eyes and a thin moustache.

"Great Merlin! It's Floggman! How did he find out so fast?" said James, panicked.

Older Lupin broke in. "Professor Floggman was the head of Slytherin at that time. He was a lot like Professor Snape is now, actually," he said to the group. He was obviously enjoying the memory immensely.

"Oh no. You don't suppose -" said Sirius, his hands tensely pressing on the side of his head.

Young Lupin sighed. "He put the serpents in the wrong chimney."

"That idiot!" said James, with exasperation. "He must have put it right in Floggman's fireplace in his quarters! Now what?"

The serpent spell appeared to be wearing off. The three boys started running down the corridor away from Floggman. "He's going to head outside! We need to find Wormtail first," said Sirius.

They stopped and checked the map. "Bloody hell, Wormtail is heading right for him," said James, running his fingers through his hair.

"Leave that to me," said Sirius, with a grin. "I'll distract Floggman, you get Wormtail. Somehow we need to get up to our beds before Floggman thinks to check if we're out of the tower. Let's meet back at the Gryffindor portrait hole."

James gave him a thumbs-up. Sirius transformed into his dog form and took off.

Harry glanced at Neville and Luna, thinking that they would be surprised by the transformation. He thought he better fill them in. "Sirius was a secret Animagus. So was my father, actually," he said with pride.

James and Young Lupin were checking the map. Harry could see Floggman and Sirius on the map moving rapidly down an adjacent corridor, away from Peter and their position.

"Okay, Moony, lets go," said James.

They ran down the corridor and soon met up with Peter. "How was it?" he asked excitedly.

"Well, it might have been brilliant - if you had put the serpents in the right chimney," James said coldly.

Peter looked stunned. "What?"

"You put it in Floggman's chimney!" said James angrily.

"Oh, er, sorry," Peter said lamely.

"We'll talk about it later. We need to get back to our dorm!" James checked the map again. "Looks like Padfoot got rid of Floggman. He's all the way on the other side of the castle. Padfoot's heading back to the portrait hole."

They ran down the corridor and up several flights of stairs, heading to the Gryffindor tower. They turned the corner and then abruptly threw themselves backward.

"Blimey," said James anxiously, "Floggman must have already called Stirling. He's waiting at the portrait hole!"

"He couldn't have searched the dorms already. He must be waiting for whoever comes back," said Young Lupin.

Old Lupin narrated again. "Stirling was the Gryffindor head of house," he said, grinning.

Padfoot came bounding up to them and transformed back into Sirius. "Mission accomplished. I grabbed his wand in my mouth, and he chased me all over the castle," he said, laughing.

"Well, don't laugh yet. Stirling is guarding the hole," said James. Sirius's face fell. "We need a diversion. Do you have any serpents left?"

"Well, not really. I have some rejects and prototypes..." said Sirius uncertainly.

"Get them! Better than nothing!" said James.

"They won't totally work as expected," said Sirius, "but I don't see a lot of other options. I stuck them in the secret storeroom. Back in a minute." He ran down the corridor. The three left looked nervously at each other, waiting for Sirius to return. James kept a watch on the Marauder's Map.

Sirius soon returned with another box. "I can't vouch for these -"

James cut him off impatiently. "Enough with the warnings. Leave them here, and let's circle around to the other side."

They headed away from the portrait hole, winding through several other passageways until they came around to the other end of the corridor. Sirius peeked around the corner. "Still there. Time for action."

He waved his wand toward the other end of the corridor and whispered, "Serpent Mischief!"

Suddenly a large explosion came from the direction of the serpents. Stirling looked startled and ran down the hall to investigate. James appeared about to move, when Stirling came stumbling back. Several snakes seemed to be trying to herd him back down the other direction, but they kept wrapping around his legs, tripping him. Harry flinched as Stirling fell particularly hard to the stone floor.

Some flying serpents flew in circles around his head at great speed, then would veer off and start hitting the walls over and over with a loud WHAP-WHAP, before spinning about his head once again.

Harry stared in disbelief. The scene was utter pandemonium. The quartet appeared to agree as they stared open-mouthed at Stirling flailing his arms in panic.

Finally, Stirling must have felt he needed help, and he started sprinting down the corridor away from the Marauders, berserk serpents attacking all the way.

"Bloody hell, we're in trouble if we don't get up there. Now's our chance. Let's move!" said James, his voice shaking a bit.

They ran to the portrait hole. Sirius hissed the password. "Haggis and Eggs!" The portrait swung open, as the fat lady gave them a very disapproving look. Sirius flashed her a dazzling grin with a sly wink, and her disapproval melted. "Mr. Black, you are a rogue. Get upstairs," she said, blushing.

There were still quite a number of students doing homework, although some appeared to be getting ready to turn in. The Marauders walked casually along the side of the large room, trying not to attract attention. No one appeared to notice the group come in. When they reached the dorm stairs, they switched to a dead run, with Harry and the others following closely behind. They threw open the door of their dorm room, and the four split to their respective beds.

They pulled out pajamas and almost tore off their clothes getting changed. Harry noticed with amusement that the girls averted their eyes at this display, although he could have sworn he saw a little peeking. They leapt into their beds and snapped closed the curtains. A silence descended over the room, but Harry could hear excited breathing coming from the beds.

Sirius laughed quietly from his bed. "It didn't quite go off as planned, but that was bloody brilliant."

"Another successful night for the Marauders," said James, snickering back. "Good night, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail."

A chorus of good nights echoed through the room.

* * *

Harry felt himself swooping up through the icy blackness, flipping in mid-air, and landing on his feet back at the Burrow. He noticed the others shaking themselves similarly as they also found themselves back.

"Whoa," said Ron, "That was brilliant. Harry, if I ever give a party, you have to bring that thing."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Ron, Pensieves are not toys," she said loftily.

"It was your idea!" Ron said indignantly.

Hermione glared at him. "It was very exciting visiting Professor Lupin's memory, however." She turned to Harry and said in a low voice, "All right, Harry?"

Harry forced a smile at Hermione, not really knowing what he was feeling. "I'm fine," he said.

The truth was that Harry felt a mix of emotions. He felt exhilarated from the experience of seeing his father and Sirius in action, and he had to admit he was very entertained by their antics. Yet he also felt a deep sadness from having seen them so innocent and carefree. He had known that all four of them had ended up with sad fates, but somehow seeing them like this really brought home the tragedy of the Marauders. His father's early death, Sirius's stay at Azkaban and subsequent death, Lupin's lonely life and even Peter Pettigrew's fate.

"Thank you, Professor - er, Remus, I mean," said Harry to Lupin. Using his first name felt foreign to him. "That was great."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Harry. I know I did," said Lupin with a huge grin. Seeing the look of happy nostalgia on his face made Harry think that whatever he felt about the experience was worth it.

They all spent the rest of the afternoon sharing memories, some funny (the Twins relived their escape from Umbridge, by popular demand), and some exciting (Mad-Eye Moody shared a hair-raising battle with a group of Death Eaters, when he single handedly captured five of them).

Finally the party started to wind down a bit. Everyone appeared a bit drained from all the experiences, but no one wanted it to end.

"Dumbledore was right. The Pensieve does make for good party entertainment," said Lupin. "Tiring, though." There was a general murmur of agreement.

"How about you, Harry? You haven't shared a memory. Perhaps we could wrap this up with you," said Lupin.

Harry felt a bit shy. "Well, I don't know if I have any interesting memories."

"You're joking, right mate?" said Ron. "If anyone has memories, it's you."

"Ron!" said Hermione, horrified.

"Uh, er, well, you know what I mean, Harry. I didn't mean all of your memories were good ones," said Ron uncomfortably.

Harry sighed. "It's all right, Ron."

Suddenly Harry was tired of everyone treading softly around his life. He searched his memory for an experience he might share, and it occurred to him that this was a good opportunity to finally show everyone that there was more luck involved in his life than people thought. Before he could change his mind, he said quickly, "Listen, would anyone be interested in seeing, uh, what happened with the Philosopher's Stone? My first year?"

There was a stunned silence. "You're not serious!" said Fred and George together, loudly. Everyone laughed, breaking the silence that had ensued.

"Are you certain, dear?" said Molly, with a worried expression.

"It's fine, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, smiling.

"Harry, I think it's safe to say that many of us here would give quite a bit to see that memory, if you're of a mind to share it," said Lupin. "It's not everyday that someone can experience surviving You-Know-Who. I daresay the Aurors in attendance would particularly like to see it," he said, grinning.

Harry was already having second thoughts about his reckless promise to share the memory, but was determined to see it through. He was tired of everyone thinking he was such a hero. It's about time people knew the truth, he thought.

He walked over next to Lupin and the Pensieve. "What do I need to do?"

"It's pretty simple, Harry. Concentrate on an image of the time that you wish the memory to start. Put your wand up to your temple and draw it out in a straight line toward the basin. That will extract the memory into the Pensieve."

Harry thought back to the beginning of the events, when they found Fluffy asleep. "Okay, I'm ready." He lifted his wand to his temple, extracted a fine, silvery thread and placed it into the basin. "Are those really my memories?" He asked.

"It's a bit more complicated than that, Harry, " Lupin replied. "It's still in your head, of course, otherwise you wouldn't be able to remember it right now. But you've put a magical essence of them into the Pensieve."

"Right then. Shall we start with Harry's friends? And perhaps I will wait and give the honor of the first viewing to our distinguished Auror veteran, Alastor Moody." He nodded at Moody.

Mad-Eye Moody looked pleased at Lupin, and his eyeball spun jauntily. "Thank you, Remus. Don't mind if I do. I'm curious to see it."

They all plunged into the memory. Harry had forgotten how frightening the whole business had been. Time had faded the memory in his own mind, but the Pensieve brought the whole business alive again. Harry narrated a few parts where he could offer some background, but mostly let the events unfold. Some time later, they returned to reality after viewing the fearsome events.

"Wow! It's weird to see myself doing that chess game," said Ron, excited.

"Yes, and it's very interesting to finally see first-hand what happened after Harry left us," said Hermione. "You were brilliant, Harry."

The reactions of the others were varied. Ginny had a guarded expression, but kept sneaking looks at Harry. Luna looked serene, as if fighting Voldemort were an everyday occurrence. Neville, on the other hand, looked at Harry with undisguised awe. Harry squirmed under the attention. Don't they see it was luck? he thought.

"Who's next? I think I'll go this time," said Lupin with a smile. The next group went up to the Pensieve and began viewing the memory. As each group went, Harry went along to provide the minor commentary. It was difficult to speak at the key times, as everyone kept giving him looks of wonder, causing Harry to burn with embarrassment.

Finally everyone had a turn to view the memory. Most everyone seemed stunned at the memory of 11-year-old Harry fighting off Voldemort.

"Oh, Harry, that must have been so frightening for you!" said Mrs. Weasley. "And Ron! Don't you dare put yourself in danger like that again!" Ron avoided her eyes, perhaps hoping that the fact that he had just done so last month wouldn't cross her mind.

"That was some fine work, Potter," said Moody, "and Weasley and Granger as well." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Well, let's face it, I was pretty lucky," said Harry modestly.

"Luck, Potter? Let me speak to you for a second, boy. Come over here." Moody gestured toward a private corner of the yard. He started walking away, and Harry followed.

Moody turned toward Harry, his magical eye appearing to look straight through him. "Potter, let me explain some facts of life to you. Every battle has an element of luck - good and bad. But the reason you survived wasn't luck. Do you know why you survived?"

Harry shook his head.

"You survived because you kept your head. You were afraid, but you didn't let fear rule over you. You did what you had to do," growled Moody in a low voice.

"But if I hadn't had that protection..." said Harry.

"You had a weapon, Potter. How many battles would I survive if I didn't have my wand? We all have a set of assets that we take into battle. Even if you have a weapon in a fight, you still have to have the guts and courage to use that weapon. Again, Potter, you kept your head. You used what you had to your advantage."

Moody continued. "Let me tell you what You-Know-Who's greatest weapon is. It's fear, Potter. Plain and simple. Ninety-five percent of his job is done if everyone fears him. People cower and don't fight back. But you didn't cower. You did what you had to do. Luck had nothing to do with your fighting back."

Harry just nodded, not knowing what to say. His thoughts were a jumbled mess.

"I'm not just blowing smoke at you, Potter. I meant what I said. Well done. There are plenty of adult Aurors that would have folded in the face of - that." Moody paused, letting Harry think about his words.

"Well, come on, boy. Let's get back to the party. Remember what I said."

"Thank you, sir. I will remember," said Harry respectfully.

They made their way back to the group. Everyone appeared to be gathering belongings, preparing to leave. Harry walked around thanking everyone for coming and for his gifts.

"No, thank you, Harry. I think it's safe to say this is one of the best parties I've ever been to," said Tonks enthusiastically. "Take care of yourself this year, all right?"

Harry nodded his appreciation. He thanked Neville and Luna and promised to find them on the Hogwarts Express. Finally, it was down to the Weasleys and Hermione.

Harry dropped into a chair, exhausted. "Wow," he said.

Everyone seemed to feel the same way. "Indeed. That was some day, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, sitting next to him.

"Thank you so much for all this," as Harry gestured about the yard.

"Harry, I meant what I said. You are like a son to us. We're proud that your first birthday party could be here with us."

Harry just flushed, unable to speak. Mr. Weasley smiled at him and appeared to take that as an answer. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and wandered over to help Mrs. Weasley.

* * *

Hermione walked along a path, not far from the Burrow, her mind buzzing from all the experiences they had seen in the Pensieve. After she helped clean up after the party, she had felt like she needed a walk to clear her head. It was very late in the afternoon, and the sun was moving lazily toward the horizon.

Her thoughts drifted to Harry. She was happy that he seemed to have such a good time at his birthday party. He always seemed so surprised when he saw evidence that people cared about him. Despite his happiness today, she could tell during the week that he was deeply troubled. She was careful not to press him too hard, recalling all too well his snapping at them last year.

Harry is too alone. He needs something that Ron or I can't give him, she thought. Hermione knew that she and Ron were important to Harry, but she also knew that there were parts of Harry that were closed off and would never be accessible to them. Harry needed someone he could love and trust. She hoped that Ginny's instincts were right and Harry was showing some interest. Hermione thought that Ginny would be good for him, but was well aware that trying to predict Harry was risky business.

Hermione considered Harry's love interest of the previous year. She was of two minds about Cho. On the one hand, she was glad that Harry had found the time and attention to be interested in someone. On the other hand, she didn't think much of his choice.

It wasn't that Cho was a bad person, but Harry had chosen her for the wrong reasons. She had a pretty face, and Harry had fallen for her without considering whether she had the right personality and temperament for him. Inevitably, the relationship had failed once Harry looked past the beauty and realized a real person was behind it, a person that was simply wrong for him. Not to mention that she was still pining for Cedric, Hermione thought, rolling her eyes.

She stopped, looking at the bright orange and angry red sky as the sun began to set. It was a gorgeous sunset tonight. She idly wished that she had someone with her to share the view.

I certainly wouldn't just fall for the first attractive face that came along, I would be practical about it, Hermione thought loftily. Yet, even as the thought came, her self-honesty insisted that she inspect that statement. Viktor wasn't really a boyfriend, even though he had made it clear that he wanted more than she could give. Viktor would certainly be the practical choice, wouldn't he? Yet her heart hadn't agreed.

Her heart had committed her to another, less practical, choice.

Hermione sighed. Why did she love Ron? They bickered far too much. He was completely oblivious to hurting her feelings. He was somewhat attractive, tall and cute, but not overwhelmingly so.

She thought that ultimately the reason she loved Ron was that he made her laugh. Growing up as an only child, and as an extremely bright child, she had felt isolated from others her age. Her seriousness only served to isolate her further, and the isolation only made her more serious. She thought that would all change when she found out she was a witch. But she was bitterly disappointed when she discovered that magical schools were just like muggle schools, and the same isolation descended upon her.

The happiest year of her life was her first year, when Harry and Ron had become her best friends, the first real friends of her life. She knew that she had flaws, and that she took many things too seriously. She still did. But Harry and Ron accepted her for who she was.

She stopped and watched the sun creep below the horizon, the last rays of the day giving way to night. The sultry night air felt good as she started walking again.

But what of Harry? He would certainly be a practical choice, on a certain level. On the other hand, nothing about Harry was simple, and practical could never describe anything having to do with him. Half the school already expected her and Harry to go out together at some point, and the other half probably thought that she had already tried and failed. Like I'm not good enough, she thought bitterly.

She stopped in front of the lake, gazing over the perfectly still, mirror surface. She could see trees from the opposite bank reflecting on the surface, and the first stars were starting to show in the night sky.

Why not Harry? What more could a girl want? Harry was smart, loyal, brave, powerful - and if she was honest with herself - good looking, in a scruffy way. And to top it off, he was one of her two best friends.

But feelings were feelings, and she simply didn't feel that way about him. Harry was the brother that she never had. She suspected that it was his seriousness that doomed any stronger feelings. Harry's seriousness fed her own seriousness. They could have fun together, but when they spent too much time together alone, they closed in on themselves. It was difficult to be silly around Harry the way she could be silly around Ron.

Ron made her laugh, and the joy in that was indescribable. Ron was wonderful in his own way, and when his protectiveness came out (as when Draco made snide comments), it made her heart pound with excitement.

But what did he actually feel about her? The irony about Ron was that he was so transparent in how he felt about things. But in this one important area, she couldn't get a read on him. Certainly he seemed to be jealous of Viktor. And he seemed to look at her when he thought she wasn't looking. But if he fancied her, why didn't he do anything about it? What was he waiting for?

She supposed she could make the first move. But something held her back. Her friendship with Ron was important to her, and beyond that, she knew that she and Ron needed to be there for Harry. It wasn't fair to Harry to burden him with their problems if things didn't work out.

No, her instinct was that Ron needed to sort out his own feelings, on his own timetable. If she tried to force him out into the open, she didn't know if it would go well. She needed to wait - and hope that he would ultimately find feelings for her.

* * *

Harry woke up very early and quickly dressed. He sneaked down the Weasley stairs, which creaked noisily even with his careful tiptoeing. The house was very quiet, as everyone was sleeping in after the events of the previous day.

He wrote a note saying that he'd decided to take a morning hike, which was only partially the truth. He really wanted to try his Pensieve in private. He felt that if he was going to explore his memories, he wanted to be away from everyone. Somehow even doing it in the privacy of his room at the Burrow wasn't enough.

He hurriedly put together some bread and jam to munch on, and headed out of the house, down a path that ran behind the Burrow. He knew that special wards were set up around the area, and it was probably even under surveillance. He was careful not to go too far, but the lure of a quiet spot was strong.

He hiked up a hill covered with thick trees. The tops of the trees provided a shady canopy where the morning sun, already creating a sweltering summer heat, occasionally broke through with fans of streaming sunlight. The trees opened into a glade, which provided a vantage point overlooking a green valley. It was a perfectly peaceful, private spot in which to work.

Harry put down a satchel he'd been carrying and took out his Pensieve and the instruction pamphlet. He began reading it and was surprised by how sophisticated the Pensieve really was. It allowed one to visit memories, but the memories were really an anchor. The Pensieve combined the thoughts of the user and the shadows of the actual events out of time. That explains why the memories are so detailed, even showing things that are out of the person's immediate attention, Harry thought.

The Pensieve could also operate in several different ways. One could enter the memory and get a full immersive experience, or the Pensieve could show the memory floating above its surface, as Dumbledore had shown with the prophecy last year. It also had some advanced ways of operating that allowed finding associations and links between thoughts. That looked fairly complex, so Harry focused on the memory aspect of the Pensieve.

Harry thought that the 'floating mode' might be something to try. He hadn't heard the prophecy word-for-word since Dumbledore had shown it to him. Reading the pamphlet, he brought his wand to his temple, and extracted a fine, silvery thread of his memory of the Prophecy and deposited it into the basin. He gazed with fascination at the cloudy substance which appeared to be neither liquid nor gas.

He waved his wand and gave the incantation. Dumbledore rose out of the substance, including Dumbledore's Pensieve, which showed Trelawney floating above it. Harry watched with cold chills running down his spine as she repeated the Prophecy. He let the words sink in once again as the memory ended. It didn't sound any better hearing it the second time. If anything, it sounded worse.

He felt a new wave of frustration rising in him. Why? Why am I, of all people, responsible for defeating him? He glared at the Pensieve. So you're supposed to calm my thoughts and emotions? Not working too well so far, he thought angrily. He pulled the thought back from the basin and returned it to his head.

To calm himself more than anything, he started reading the pamphlet further. He stopped, stunned, as he read a section.

The Pensieve does not necessarily need strong memories in order to operate. Weak memories, or even memories that you believe yourself to have, may also be enough to pull the events out of time. The stronger the memory, the better the results, but often very good results can occur from weak memories. For example, many people can find memories of their early childhood, even from birth. In order to find these memories, concentrate on the time of the event, the people within it, or the location. If there are many events existing in time that match, the Pensieve may lock into one at random. These can often be very stimulating experiences.

Harry simultaneously felt fear and excitement. Could he possibly see his parents before they died? Dare he try? He hesitated. He felt an ocean of feelings wash over him, tossing his mind to and fro. What if it didn't work? But if it did, he could see them again with himself, living as a normal family the way he always wanted. He had precious few pictures of that, and even wizard pictures were a pale imitation of the detail that the Pensieve provided.

Feeling reckless, he consulted the pamphlet again. He started to raise his wand to his temple, and then hesitated. Do I really want to do this? he thought. Why am I hesitating? Not totally understanding the conflicts in his mind, he concentrated on the time of his babyhood. He imagined himself with his parents, as they looked in his photographs. He pulled out a sliver of thought from his temple, much thinner than normal. He gently placed it into the basin.

He watched the thought swirl within the Pensieve, feeling uneasy. He touched his wand to the cloudy substance, which began to swirl rapidly. The window into the memory appeared, and he slowly peered in. He could just make out three figures, two large and one very small. Taking a deep breath, he plunged himself into the window.

He felt the now-familiar icy, black tumbling and came to his feet in a small room. It was decorated with little children's scenes. They were unfamiliar to Harry, but looked like they might be from wizard children's books. They seemed to feature children holding wands and having wonderful adventures.

He turned and saw his parents. They were gazing down at a crib with an expression of happiness on their faces. They were being very quiet and every so often would look up and smile at each other. Suddenly he heard a cry from the crib, and James and Lily's faces fell. They looked at each other again and groaned.

"Damn! He was almost asleep!" James said.

"James! Watch your language!" Lily said, chuckling a bit.

Baby Harry began crying even louder.

"See what you did? There, there, come here. Did Daddy say a bad word?" Lily reached down and picked up the baby, cradling him in her arms. "Shhhhh, Mummy's here."

James reached over and stroked baby-Harry's forehead. "And Daddy's here, too. You must be tired... right?" Baby-Harry cried even louder. "Guess not," James grinned.

Harry watched the scene play out. He was mesmerized watching his baby self be soothed by his mother and father. He felt a huge lump come up in his throat and fought back tears as he watched the scene. Yet, even as he fought the tears, he felt oddly comforted. Here was unconditional love for him. They had loved him and cared for him. Even if he couldn't remember this scene, it was part of him, and that could never be taken away. Not even Voldemort could ever take it away.

After a long while, baby-Harry finally started to calm down a bit. Lily gently placed him back in the crib, putting a very warm-looking hand-knit blanket over him. Harry walked over and peeked in. It held several small stuffed animals and a mobile was hung over the crib. James reached over and touched his wand to the mobile, which had little stars hanging from arms. It began to play a soothing melody, the stars turning in a circle above the baby's head. Baby-Harry pulled his blanket closer, watching the stars turn to the music. He appeared to be growing sleepy. The tune sounded oddly familiar to Harry, and he found himself growing sleepy as well from it.

He looked back to his parents, and the look of pride they were giving the baby threatened to choke Harry up again. As the baby fell asleep, Harry felt himself pulled out of the Pensieve, and then he landed in the glade, sitting on the ground once again.

Harry closed his eyes and just sat for several minutes playing the scene over and over again in his mind. His face felt the morning sun, which had climbed beyond the shade of the trees to shine on him while he had been in the Pensieve. The warmth of the sun seemed to remind him of the warmth of the blanket that had surrounded the baby. He felt a tear forming at his eyes, but still didn't move.

Finally he opened his eyes and swiped at the tear that almost fell. He took a deep breath and then slowly blew out the air, regaining control over himself. That's enough memories for now, he thought. He returned the memory from the Pensieve to his temple, put his Pensieve and the pamphlet back in his satchel, and started back.

As he walked along the path, Harry felt disturbed by a feeling of almost desperate want that filled him to return to his parent's house.