So I hope everyone enjoys this story. It took me a while to write, but I enjoyed writing it very much! And please review after you have read this story so I know how many liked it and how many people want me to continue. Thanks guys . . . and enjoy!

Harry Couldn't sleep that night. Every attempt to close his eyes lead to the scene of Dumbledore's death that kept playing over and over again in Harry's head. All he could remember was Dumbledore's body lessening as it was falling towards the ground. That picture just shot through Harry's heart like a piece of glass. What was even more painful was the memory of Dumbledore's face and figure while it was on the ground. Harry could just remember his rush through the crowd of students as he attempted to reach Dumbledore. The memory was so strong that he could still feel the tears he cried while he was looking at the headmaster. He kept playing those scenes over and over as he laid in his cozy, little bed in his room at Hogwarts. He knew Hogwarts would never be the same without Dumbledore. Never had he imagined Dumbledore even passing away. At least not by Snape murdering him.

Harry once again tried to close his eyes. He was awfully tired, but as he tried to do so, the images still kept on playing. It felt like a movie kept rewinding itself every time Harry closed his eyes. Harry then knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. He'd be lucky if he was able to ever sleep again. All through the night, Harry kept closing his eyes in attempt to fall asleep, but again . . . the movie kept rewinding itself.


THE NEXT MORNING:

"Harry! Harry? . . . Harry! Come on!" Harry rubbed his eyes realizing that he had finally fallen asleep after those flashbacks of Dumbledore. Harry stretched a couple of times and saw Ron's fuzzy figure sitting on the edge of his bed.

"R-R-Ron! What a-are you doing u-up so early?" Harry asked while yawning.

"What do you mean early? It's one o'clock !" Ron said standing up and pulling the covers off Harry.

"One o'clock? . . . well then, wake me up when it's two." Harry replied and pulled the covers over his head again. There was a pause for a few second, but Ron knew he had to say something.

"Listen Harry . . . I know you must be extremely hurt, and even in denial, but you can't stay like this all day . . . It's unhealthy!" Ron said. "Woah! I'm beginning to sound like Hermione!" Ron added. Harry wanted to laugh but just didn't have the energy to.

"Listen Ron, I just can't get up right now . . . why do you want me to anyways?" Harry's head was still hidden under the covers.

"Well there aren't going to be classes for a week because of what happened last night. The teachers are still trying to figure out what they're going to do since Dumbledore died. I think they're negotiating about who should be the next Headmaster. But anyways . . . Me, Fred and George are going to go play some Quiditch. . . . would you like to join us?" Ron asked.

"Not today Ron . . . I'm not feeling too well."

"Oh come on Harry! You moping around isn't going to bring Dumbledore back to life . . . I mean, he was dying anyways . . . He was how old? . . . A hundred and fifty years old." At first those words made Harry feel like there was a chainsaw inside him, ripping his insides to pieces, but then he felt like there was a bomb inside him ticking and was about to explode. His sadness had just turned into anger. Harry immediately leapt off his bed and walked towards Ron.

"I WOULD HAVE RATHER HAD DUMBLEDORE DYING THE NORMAL WAY RATHER THAN HAVING THAT STUPID BLOODY SNAPE KILL HIM! AND ALL OF THIS . . . ALL OF THIS WAS BECAUSE OF VOLDEMORT . . . VOLDEMORT KILLED MY PARENTS! VOLDEMORT'S ARMY KILLED SIRIUS. AND THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE -SNAPE- KILLED DUMBLEDORE! SO WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO RON? PUT A SMILE ON MY FACE AND SING A LITTLE HAPPY SONG? OR DO YOU WANT ME TO DANCE INSTEAD?" Harry's face was dark red. He was furious. While this was happening, Hermione rushed into the room. She instantly stopped walking as soon as she saw Harry. She knew something was up, but was too frightened to ask anything. She couldn't take her eyes off of Harry. She had never seen him this way before.

"Fred and George told me to tell you to hurry up. They're waiting for you," Hermione said, still staring at Harry. The two boys noticed her presence and looked at her.

"Yes . . . I'm coming . . . let's go Hermione," Ron said, walking out of the room with rage. Hermione remained in the room. She was still stunned by Harry's appearance. She opened her mouth, waiting for something to come out, but nothing did. For once in her life, Hermione was speechless, so she turned around and left the room, following Ron.

Seconds passed and Harry was the only one in the room, but his body stayed in the same position. The only things moving were the thoughts in his head.

"Maybe I was a little too aggressive with Ron. Maybe he was right. I'm an idiot . . . he did have a point. Nothing's going to get accomplished if I just stay here. And Hermione's face . . . the way she was staring at me, I probably looked like a monster. I am a monster. All of this wouldn't have happened if Dumbledore was still alive and Voldemort was dead . . . and he will be dead. I will make sure of it," Harry thought.

The thought of Voldemort dying got Harry moving again. Harry unfroze from his position and took a seat on his bed.

"But how do I start? How do I kill him? Is it possible to kill him when Dumbledore isn't even here? . . . Of course it is . . . and if it isn't, I'll make it . . . I need to find clues, or something . . . anything to motivate me to search for Voldemort. But where can I find these clues? Dumbledore probably knows the most about The Dark Lord, and now that he's dead . . . how will I know what Dumbledore knows? Where do I find the clues that will lead me to Voldemort? Where? . . . Where? . . . Where?. . . the woods? . . . no . . . what would be so special about the woods? . . . The Chamber of Secrets? . . . already searched there . . . Dumbledore's Office? . . . OFCOURSE! Dumbledore's Office!"

Harry immediately jumped off his bed and rushed to get dressed. He ran to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. He didn't even bother brush his hair. He then ran out of the bathroom, grabbed his wand off his dresser, wore his glasses and sprinted out of his room. He was running so fast, he almost tripped on the stairs. Once he reached the end of the staircase, he began to walk. He didn't want anyone to suspect he was up to something. He finally reached Dumbledore's office. He was in front of the door and was about to turn the handle, but he looked around just to make sure nobody was there. He didn't see anyone around so he pushed the door forward and went in. Once he was in, he locked the door behind him. He was finally in the office. Harry stepped in and looked around with wide eyes as if it was the first time he had been there. He just couldn't believe that Dumbledore was gone. He was waiting for Dumbledore to pop out of nowhere and tell him that he really wasn't dead and that it was all a joke. But of course that wouldn't happen. Harry saw the guards take Dumbledore's dead body out of everyone's sight the night before. And why would he joke around like that? What was he? . . . an idiot?

Harry began to search around the office. He circled around Dumbledore's desk trying to find a clue Dumbledore had left for him. Harry thought that Dumbledore could have known that he was going to be killed and might have left a note, or some sort of clue before he died, but harry found nothing on the desk. All he saw were pictures of his favorite past students. Harry knew that if Dumbledore had remained alive, his picture would be on the desk. That saddened Harry very much. Harry ignored his misery and started to look around the walls. Harry thought that there could be some sort of passage hidden behind the walls that could take him to a place of clues. He knocked on every inch of the wall, but he discovered nothing. He backed away from the walls and looked at them one more time just to make sure there weren't any places he hadn't searched, but only one thing stood out, and it was the portrait of Dumbledore. Harry stood there and stared at it silently. Tears began to form in his eyes, but Harry sucked them back in. He knew that there was no time to be weak, or sad. Now that Dumbledore was gone, he had to be stronger than ever. He took his eyes off the portrait and continued his searching.

Harry opened every drawer in Dumbledore's office, but they were all empty. Harry thought that the ministry could have taken everything out, but Harry still had hope. Harry left the desk area and looked around the office again. He looked left, he looked down and he looked up, but when he looked right, there stood the glass cabinet of memories that Dumbledore had told him about before he had died. The first time Harry had seen that rotating cabinet, he was in complete awe. Anyone who had seen that cabinet would just be blown away by its beauty. It was so detailed and its dark golden color was so rich. The outer wood of the cabinet was carved in such detail. The cabinet's detail was so precise that anyone who dared look at it, would just want to stare at it for hours and hours at a time.

Harry walked up to the collection of memories, and rotated them around. Harry never really had gotten this close to them and was shocked at how many there were. He could have sworn there were thousands of them. He spun the cabinet around, looking at all the names the memories belonged to. He thought that he might find one person's memory that could tell him something about Voldemort. While looking at the memories from top to bottom, one memory caught his attention. He carefully took the memory out of the cabinet, not wanting to drop it. He cautiously brought the memory surrounded by a glass container up to his face and read the name it belonged to.

"Lucius Malfoy," Harry whispered quietly to himself.

"I am kind of curious. But should I look into it? Or should I just mind my own business? But you never know, he might know something about Voldemort that I don't. He is a Death Eater after all, right?I guess I should. It will help me." Harry convinced himself and vigilantly opened the tiny glass container the memory was in. He walked cautiously towards the pensieve that wasn't very far from the cabinet. The pensieve was placed on top of an empty desk. Harry looked into the little stone bowl and slowly poured the golden string-like memory into the imperceptible liquid. Harry instantaneously ducked his head into the pensieve, anxious to see the memory of Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy's Memory:

"Psssst!" The young Lucius Malfoy hisses at James Potter who is sitting at the desk next to his. James notices Malfoy's attempt to get his attention.

"What?" James replies, pretending to be jotting down notes, so the professor at the front of the class doesn't suspect anything.

"I was wondeing if you wanted to-"

"Who is talking!? I've clearly told everyone to read page one hundred and twenty three and jot down notes. I should hear no talking!" Professor Mcgonogall who is at the front of the class interrupts Lucius. The two young boys, who look like they are in their third year at Hogwarts continue reading their text books, waiting for class to end. After minutes of silent reading, the professor finally dismisses the class. Both Lucius, who is in Slytherin, and James, who is in Gryffindor leap off their seats, gather their books and walk together out of the class.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" James asks.

"Well you know that the school year is going to end in a month and I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Quiditch World Cup with my dad and I this summer," Lucius says.

"THE QUIDITCH WORLD CUP!?" James abruptly stops in the middle of the hall and shouts with enthusiasm, while half the students in the halls look at the two with annoyance.

"Shhh . . . calm down, and yes the Quiditch World Cup." Lucius whispers and looks around cautiously.

"Well then yes! I'd definitely love to come . . . it will be great! I can't wait! Are you going to invite Lily?" James asks happily.

"Yes I'm planning on it, but do you think she'll like to? I mean . . . she might not be a big fan of Quiditch and the last thing I want is to get turned down by her. I'm telling you . . . rejection is painful. I'm surprised it's not a curse," Lucius says and begins to walk again. James follows.

"Yes . . . who wouldn't want to go anyways?It's the World Cup. Even to people who hate Quiditch would think it was an honor if they were able to go. Don't worry about it . . . just ask," James says.

"Yeah . . . you are right. It wouldn't hurt to. But now I gotta go to potions, so I'll see you later, and thanks for the advice. You sure are in Gryffindor . . . but you're one good hell of a friend," Lucius smiles at James and heads down the hallway to the right.

Harry hastily removed his head from the pensieve. He rubbed his eyes a couple of times in complete disbelief. Still shocked at what he had obsereved, he removed the memory from the pensieve into the tiny glass container with his wand. He clutched the memory with his hand. He was breathing fast and heavily, and felt light-headed. He had a shocked expression on his face that had a hint of fright to it. Harry just couldn't absorb what he had heard.

"Lucius and my father . . . Friends?" Harry thought, looking down at the memory with apprehension.

Remember to Review!