A/N: Three chapters in one week! My new personal best! I should be able to keep this up if I know there are actually people interested in how this story is going to turn out, so keep reviewing please!


Chapter 3: Memories

"August 4th,

Melinda, the love of my life, is pregnant. If I were the father, nothing could've made me happier, but I know such a thing is not possible. So many times my hands have touched her soft skin, but not once had I gone all the way with her. She always told me she was not ready.

"Nonsense! The slut was saving her innocence for someone else. For Riddle, of all people. That filthy, half-breed! All this time that I had put my all into this relationship, and she was using me to get closer to him. She may have been a Ravenclaw back at Hogwarts, but she sure had the cunning of a Slytherin. Vile woman! To do such a thing to me!

"I hope Riddle breaks her heart like he has done to so many in the past!"

"Are you still reading that bloody thing? Ron yawned as he woke up from his nap. Two days had gone by and still no sign of Hermione. He began to question whether she was really in the vast mansion. "Is there anything about the horcruxes and such?"

"No, there isn't." Harry didn't peel his eyes away from the diary for a second. His eyes were sore and the light from Ron's wand was growing dimmer as he was growing tired. "However, it seems that Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who may have had a kid."

"No bloody way! I wonder whatever happened to the poor bloke."

"I don't know yet. Let's see…" Harry skipped a few pages and began to read aloud. "November 26th, Melinda came crying to my flat very early this morning. She's learned of the Knights and My Lord's plans. How she did, I do not know.

"She knows I am a Knight, but she still trusts me for I had had her on a pedestal for over two years. In between sobs, she tells me she wishes I was the father of her child. She doesn't trust My Lord and fears for her life as well as the unborn child's. My Lord does want it, hoping for a boy, but Melinda doesn't want to be involved in anyway in our quest for greatness.

"I understand that much. For a half-blood, I can see how the whole thing may be unnerving for her. She begs me to help her in her escape while My Lord is in Albania. I believe she got exactly what she deserved, but a part of me told me to help her. My mind ponders, and I believe it would be best to hide her out east; Czechoslovakia, Poland maybe even the Soviet Union."

"Did they escape?" Ron asked, now giving his undivided attention.

"I believe so." Harry scanned forward. "December 4th, My Lord is furious. He questions all us Knights about the whereabouts of Melinda, but none of us can give us a straightforward answer. I, of course, say nothing. Melinda was safe in Nice and I wasn't going to say anything to ruin that. She insisted on France against every one of my warnings, but I gave in, keeping a watchful eye periodically for it isn't very far."

"The Knights are Death Eaters, right. I wonder if that bloke we found upstairs is the one who wrote in that diary."

"So far, it doesn't say who wrote this. I wonder if Melinda and her kid, who's probably an old man by now, are still alive. I could sure come up with a few more questions to ask them."

"Wait a minute…you don't think…" Ron sat up.

"Think what?"

"That man up there. Maybe he's the son."

"Could be. If that's so, then maybe he came here because he finally found out the name of his biological father and came looking for him here."

"Then I wonder which Death Eater it was that You-Know-Who screwed over."


Once again, the sun rose and Hermione was still away from her friends. Even with her and Tom's diligence, they still were no closer to finding them. Their search proved just as unproductive as Ron's and Harry's.

"In this enormous house, I believe its best we stay in one place. I'm sure your friends are moving around. It seems that there are fresh footprints here in the thick dust on the floor. Here, have a look for yourself." Tom pointed his illuminated wand towards the floor.

"I see your point." Hermione sighed and crashed on one of the poofy chairs in the library.

"At least there are plenty of books to read here to pass the time." Tom suggested, sitting in the harder chair directly across from her. "Old maybe, but it may be better than just staring off blankly into space."

"I'm not in the mood." She said glumly.

Books were on shelves ten feet high, but she felt no urge to read a thing. Not even a newspaper clipping. She couldn't help but feel worried for her friends. She missed their company so. Even Ron and his rude comments. "Frank" was good company, but he was just a stranger, and she didn't want to find a replacement for the two boys she had spent almost seven unforgettable years with.

"Don't worry. You'll be reunited with your friends soon enough." A reassuring smile stretched across his face. It was as almost he sincerely cared about her happiness. "I think it's best for us to return back to the bedroom since it seems they've already been here."

He stood up, but she remained sitting down, looking up at him kind of funny.

"I only have gentlemanly thoughts if that's what concerns you. If I did lust for you, I would have made some sort of move already."

"No, it's not that. It's just that you seem a little too helpful." She said still in her seat.

"Too helpful?"

"I'm also surprised on how easygoing you are about finding strangers in your house and you're now helping me look for some more."

"Well this house has been abandoned for years. I'm not at all surprised that someone thought it as a good hideout and you don't seem to pose any kind of threat. What was it that you suggest I should do, call the police?"

Her cheeks flushed red at his sarcastic comment. He simply smirked at her reaction before turning around to leave.

"You're free to stay here if you'd like, but I'm heading upstairs. I'm dreadfully tired. If I see your friends along the way, I'll tell them you're here."

"Frank, wait!" She shot after him. He may've been suspicious, but she felt safer with him than just simply being alone.

"This house gives you the creeps as well?" He asked right when she caught up to him.

"Very much. I'm sorry for the inconvenience this has brought upon you."

"It's good fun in a way. Besides, I'm touring the house like I had originally planned. I think I might sell it or just simply abandon it again if I don't have any nibbles. I don't think this place is very inviting to vermin either."

Hermione chuckled at his comment and he smirked again, this time, a little lightheartedly. Her company, really, was enjoyed by him. Never before had he met a girl who wasn't ditzy, flirty, or a combination of the two. After he was done with Potter, there would be no reason to dispose of her as well.

She was pretty, but girl-next-door pretty. Tom liked the simplicity of her body with the complexity of her mind. She was sharp, though not as sharp as him. A nice candidate for a bride, but such a shame that she was a muggle-born. Still, Lord Voldemort was merciful, merciful to let a select few of "undesirables" survive in his purge for blood-purity.


Halfway through the diary, Harry's eyes were dry and his eyelids were heavy. His vision was further strained by the dim light given off by Ron's wand as he struggled to read it in the intense darkness of the house. It may've been day, but not much light got through the filth-covered windows. When all the ink in the diary suddenly washed away, he believed it as a trick of the eye or his mind was far too fatigued from lack of sleep.

"What…the?" Harry said hoarsely.

"What's going on, mate?" Ron asked with his mouth full of crackers.

Then new writing appeared out of nowhere.

"Did you get the flask as well?" It read.

Since Harry didn't answer immediately, the writing continued.

"The silver flask. It was next to this book within my robes. You did get it, right?"

Harry fumbled in his pockets for a pen to right back.

Once he found one, he wrote, "Yes I have it. What is it importance?"

"Take it out and put your eye to the mouthpiece. Don't worry; it'll do you no harm. It'll only give you answers. Answers you've been straining your eyes to get from reading this diary."

Harry put down the diary and searched inside the enchanted sack Hermione made that never filled.

"What's going on, Harry?" Ron asked again.

"The flask. It's more important than we had originally thought." Harry continued to look.

"Good thing we kept it."

Harry found the flask and opened it. Before he put his eye to it, he could see that the inside was glowing. Very much like the inside of a pensieve.

"Do you want to go with me?" He asked Ron.

"Where?"

"Fifty years ago."

"That thing can be cursed for all you know."

"It'll give us more information on You-Know-Who."

"I think its best I stay here and watch things. If you're not back by tonight, I'll do all I can to bust that thing open." Ron thought up quick to avoid going into the unknown.

"Good idea. I'll tell you all about it once I get out."

"Good luck, mate."

Harry put his eye to the mouthpiece, and just like a pensieve, he was sucked in and thrown fifty years into the past.


A/N: I know this chapter isn't much longer than the last one, and for that I apologize. It's just that I don't want to rush this story and build up on the suspense. In my defense though, I am updating much quicker than I usually do. Next chapter should be pretty long, but I should have this story updated this coming weekend, so keep a look out.

And thanks for the feedback. Like I said earlier, any and all reviews are highly appreciated and don't be afraid to. Anonymous reviews are cool too.