Author's Note: My good peoples, there may be some punctuational mistakes because I had it in a different format for the HP website blog boards so if there are...that's why it's there. Otherwise, I will have the next chapter up in a week and please give me reviews! I would appreciate it much!

Chapter 1: Marks, Memories, and Member

Harry, Dudley and Ron, to the Dursleys displeasure, were all crammed into the backseat of the car; Dudley being big enough to take over the whole of the three seats.

Harry was seething due to the stress of the last few days and to the fact that Vernon Dursley would not let him leave the house as soon as he wished.

Well, at least they let Ron stay, Harry miserably thought.

Ron was sitting very tense in his seat, his hands tightly clenched around his wand and his eyes unblinkingly staring upon his shoes. Ron was just as cramped as Dudley, though for a different reason. He had grown even more over the school year than he had over the summer and was now over six feet tall.

Dudley was cowering as close to the door as his over-large belly would allow him and covering as much of his obese bottom as he could.

Aunt Petunia chose not to acknowledge either Ron or Harry and was looking out of her rolled-down window.

Uncle Vernon, however, seemed even more tense than Ron and was holding the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. Harry had also seen him steal what Vernon must've thought discreet glances at the rear view mirror until he saw Harry looking back at him.

"So…so this Bumdle-fool's gone now, is he?" Vernon asked for the millionth time since he and Ron had picked up from King's Cross.

Harry felt Ron grow even more tense beside him and mutter, "He's not a fool," causing Vernon to glare at him in the rear-view-mirror through slits for eyelids.

Harry had his wand in his lap and was gripping it so firmly that his fingers began to sore but he didn't dare let go of it just in case…

"Harry," Ron said in a frightfully high-pitched voice as he pointed through the windshield.

Harry leaned over to look and…

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up through he had seen this many times before, but the fact was that it was so close to his house…

"Harry?" Ron asked this time, turning a pale and frightened face toward him.

Now that they had turned onto Magnolia he could see it properly and so, apparently, could Vernon and Petunia.

"What in the bloody hell?" Vernon began, pressing hard on the breaks as Petunia gave a terrible shriek.

"It's over Mrs. Figg's house," Harry said, gazing at the Dark Mark. It looked very different during the day rather than the night…

Suddenly, as if Harry had realized, for the first time what his uncle had done he bellowed, "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR! GET GOING!"

Vernon jumped and obeyed, but looked irritated the moment the car had started moving again.

"Mrs. Figg?" Ron quietly asked, "Wasn't she the one…" he began.

"That witnessed at my hearing last year, yeah," Harry finished for him, a scowl taking over his face, "But she was only a Squibb, I'm not sure what kind of importance would get Death Eaters to kill her," he wondered out loud as they stopped in number four, Private Drive's driveway.

"Let me get this straight," Vernon said, pulling his keys out of the ignition; however no one had gotten out, "Mrs. Figg, the cat lover we always sent you to for tea is a…is a…" he couldn't bring himself say "witch"; it was something of a swear word to him.

"A witch? (The Dursleys shuddered to Ron's amusement) No, but she was a Squibb, which is someone who iis/i magical, but can't do complicated magic," he quickly explained, wanting to go investigate her house.

"What is that skull thing above her house?" he demanded

"The Dark Mark. Death Eaters, who are followers of Voldemort (Ron shuddered this time), put it above the place in which they have murdered someone signifying that they have been there and that they have murdered," he reiterated, "It usually means that you should stay away," he sarcastically added, pushing the door open.

"Are those Eat-Deathers there?" Vernon asked, fear filling his voice for the first time Harry had ever heard.

Harry turned to the green, glittering Dark Mark, "I don't know," he said, his eyes narrowing, "But I'm going to find out," he said, carefully heading down the drive way, not caring that his wand was in plain view.

"Put it away!" his uncle hissed as Ron caught up with him.

"Don't you think this is a little…reckless?" he quietly asked, his wand out also, "I mean, dyou reckon Dumbledore would've wanted…"

Harry angrily turned on him no longer caring that they were only half a street away from their destination, "I'm idoing/i this for Dumbledore, Ron!" he hissed, his wand pointing into Ron's face, "You can either go back up to the house or stay with me."

Harry turned back around and continued his journey as he heard Ron mutter, "I'd rather deal with a thousand Death Eaters than them…"

The strangest thing Harry had noticed was that life around Mrs. Figg's house seemed to go on like normal. He had at least expected a few aurors to be at her house also and possibly (Harry's heart jolted at the thought and his eyes began to burn), Dumbledore would have been at the site within minutes of the Dark Mark appearing. Of course, the only reason being that it was so close to the Dursleys.

Harry, without even realizing it, was standing at the front door with his hand on the door-knob.

"Harry," Ron said again, making Harry shiver despite the one hundred five degree heat. Fear was in every nook-and-cranny of his voice. It reminded Harry of how Dumbledore had pleaded with Snape just before he had…

No, Harry thought, blinking back tears as a few slid down his face. There was no way, Harry knew, that he'd be able to forget that haunting moment, but he had to at least try for now…

A surge of adrenaline pumping through him, Harry opened the door and walked through.

It was dark and dusty. Mrs. Figg's possessions were thrown everywhere and broken.

He hadn't been watching where he was going and stepped on something soft only to look down and find one of many of Mrs. Figg's cats.

"Of course," Harry muttered as he heard Ron scrambling up the porch steps.

"They killed cats too?" Ron loudly asked.

"Keep your voice down!" Harry whispered as Ron stood next to him, "They couldn't risk any of the cats being animagi, could they? So they just…just killed them all," he quietly explained.

"Oh," he said as comprehension dawned on his face.

Harry cautiously walked though the living room, where shimmering fragments of broken glass objects lay scattered though out the carpet, to the kitchen where a bowl of fruit was broken on the tile floor.

Magic always leaves a mark, Dumbledore's words rang through his head as his eyes fell upon the wooden table where spells had burnt and scoured it. There was one particularly large hole almost exactly in the center where Harry was sure a Death Eater (given Mrs. Figg was a Squibb) had aimed an unforgivable curse; presumably "Avada Kadavra." He assumed Mrs. Figg had possibly put the fire out with her own wand.

"There are lots of signs of lots of struggle," Ron whispered, peering around the room, "Blood hell, Harry, take a look at this," he said, disappearing behind the table.

When he came into view Harry saw a tall figure in a dark cloak, wearing a mask but was spread-eagle on the ground, his eyes, as far as Harry could tell, wide open.

"Avada Kadavra," Harry muttered.

"But…but I thought…" Ron stuttered.

"She was a Squibb, Ron," Harry said, his scowl becoming more pronounced, "Some of the Order must've…must've…" he let his sentence trail as he looked through the cracked and broken patio door.

There she was; Mrs. Figg lying spread-eagle just like the Death Eater.

"Dyou reckon they caught her by surprise?" Ron asked, no longer whispering, "I mean, since she's got her hand bag with her and everything," he hastily added.

Harry shook his head, "No, I don't think so. She was probably swinging at Death Eaters with it or protecting herself."

"Don't you thin it's a bit odd…I mean…" Ron began.

"That none of the Order's here? Yeah. They should've been here ages ago," he thought a moment, staring at Mrs. Figg's body, "Either that or…"

They both were silent, not wanted to say out loud what they both knew they were thinking.

Or all those who were called to attention are lying dead in the other room, he finished his own sentence in his head and by the expression on Ron's face he was thinking the same thing.

"You don't really think…?" Ron quietly asked.

"I suppose there's only one way to…" Harry began, but he cut off his sentence as his gaze lingered on something that seemed to have escaped the fight.

There, sitting in a corner, was a small bottle filled with odd-looking liquid Harry immediately recognized as a memory. The bottle was sealed with a cork and was accompanied by a blank piece of parchment.

"Harry, what is it?" Ron asked, his eyes also falling upon the bottle of memory.

"It's a memory," Harry answered, stepping over the Death Eater's body and picking the bottle up.

What Harry had presumed to be just a piece of parchment was exactly that; but folded in half with writing on the inside.

"Harry,

I have just gotten an owl from Albus Dumbledore telling me to extract a certain memory and give it to you. He said do NOTunder any circumstance let You-Know-Who to get a hold of it. I hope this note has explained everything I could not, hence I was in the Dursleys house. Stay safe!

Abriella Figg

P.S. Albus said you could request his pensieve by owl if you wished.

AF"

Harry looked up at Ron after he'd finished reading it.

"Well, I reckon you'd better see what it is," he said as Harry's vision strayed to another dead cat.

Ron followed his gaze and jumped back in surprise only to yell in surprise again as he stepped on the Death Eater's hand, breaking all the bones.

"That…that cat, did they…knife?" Ron stuttered, looking very pale.

Harry looked from the cat to Ron, "Snape's been here," he said, silently thanking the deceased Dumbledore for never letting Snape know where he lived.

Harry's eyes began to burn as white-hot anger flared inside of him.

"How dyou know?" Ron asked.

"Because 'Sectumsempra' was used on that cat," he said.

Ron looked at him in horror, "That's what you did to Malfoy?" he incredulously asked.

Harry nodded, ashamed of himself, "Yeah. That's the spell that the Prin…well, Snape came up with. I wonder who he used it on…" he tersely said, his mind straying to his mum and dad.

Ron's expression hardened as he looked back at the bloodied cat, "Well, he deser…"

Harry quietly interrupted him, "No. Not really. You weren't there, Ron, when he made to kill Dumbledore," he said, his voice wavering, "He was scared to death and he didn't know what to do."

"I would've killed him…" Ron muttered, opening the door to the next room, his wand at the ready.

"Is there anyone in there, Ron?" Harry whispered.

It took a moment for him to answer, "Yeah, but I can't tell who…"

Harry's grip tightened on his wand and the memory, "Dead?" he fearfully asked, thinking of Tonks and Mad-eye.

"Yeah, it looks like Avada Kadavra," he said as a light turned on, "Blimey!" he loudly said.

"What?" Harry asked, slowly walking toward him, "Who is it? Ron?"

Ron turned back to him, paler than ever while the expressions of sorrow and pain were mingled on his face and in a hoarse, wavered voice he answered, "Lupin."