Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
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Al spiraled through his father's fourth, fifth, and sixth years at school. Each was worse then the rest.
The Triwizard Tournament finally made sense. Harry had been the famed fourth champion of a three-person competition. One contestant had died in front of his eyes while another had been under the Imperius Curse. Strangely, the third later become Harry's sister in law.
That wasn't the half of it though, Voldemort was back and Harry was thrown into a world of mocking witches and wizards who had no idea of what was to come because they were too foolish to believe the words of a boy they once worshipped.
Then came the heartbreak of Sirius's death in the Department of Mysteries. It was a tragedy brought on by a connection between Harry and Lord Voldemort. The one person Harry could call family was dead, killed by his own cousin. What with the drama of the Order of the Phoenix and Professor Umbridge all ready pilled around Harry, Albus's dad broke.
Al was becoming jumpy after seeing all of these horrors. He just wanted to get to the end, to make it all stop, to leave. The pensieve seemed to be in sync with his mind for the memories sped by his eyes faster and faster becoming flashes that he was somehow able to still understand.
The Half-Blood Prince, Professor Slughorn, the discovery of horcruxes, and the death of Professor Dumbledore became a five second movie reel. It gave Albus a strong headache and tears burned his eyes.
That's when everything stopped. It froze and slowly became a normal speed. This was important. These were the moments that truly made his father. Why else would the pensieve take such time to show him?
Al was shocked to learn that Harry Potter never went through his seventh year at Hogwarts. Neither did Ron or Hermione. They were outcast living in tents in the forest. Harry was the Number One Desirable with a large price on his head.
They were on an important mission though and without it, Al was sure his life would be much different. For all he knew he couldn't have even been born.
The first memory he saw from this period, took place in an area he was actually quite familiar with, it was his home, not exactly, but very close to it. Harry and Hermione were strolling through Godric's Hallow. They weren't themselves though. The only reason that Al could tell the middle-aged couple was the two was how his aunt walked and how Harry kept running his hand through his hair.
Snow was falling from the sky and the village was dark. Singing was heard from a nearby church, happy Christmas carols that made Albus grin. It was Christmas Eve and Harry and Hermione had only just realized it.
That's when Albus noticed that something was wrong. Ron wasn't there. He was nowhere in sight. Yes, there was a small chance that they could have just left him back somewhere, but a strong feeling in Al's gut told him otherwise. He had left them. He was gone.
A flurry of questions ran through his head as to why it happened and how. He walked aimlessly behind Harry and Hermione trying to figure it all out. Alas, the pieces were all missing and he had nothing to put together.
He watched paused at several grave sights in the small cemetery they had entered moments ago. Then he stopped, standing in front of one particular headstone Al was very familiar with.
A small tear streaked down his face. He now understood his dad's pain. Harry Potter had no parents, a widely known fact, and surely this was the first time he had ever seen their graves.
Albus himself had seen them numerous times. Whether he was out on a walk or picking up groceries with his mum, they always stopped by the cemetery if it was passed. Every Halloween they carted a picnic to the small site and the whole family came together. He had seen his grandparent's gravesite more times in a year of his life then his dad had in seventeen.
After Harry had gripped Hermione's hand tightly, the two walked back towards the dark church and the kissing gate. They soon arrived at the Potter's old home. Even in Albus' day it was still in its partially demolished state, but that made it all the more special.
Al, who had been searching the area with his eyes, paused at the sight of an old women standing in the distance. She was watching them and soon was hobbling towards Harry and Hermione. There was something very wrong about this; Al could feel it.
His heart sped up as the two decided to follow the lady they knew as Bathilda Bagshot. If Albus was correct though, this famous historian had passed away a week before Christmas this very year he was visiting. Had his books somehow gotten it wrong? That was not a plausible thought though. Historical dates were always right so that meant that this lady wasn't. Al's mind focus flashed to the muggle zombie magazines James used to collect.
He was wrong though. He soon figured out what was happening when Harry and Hermione had entered her house and were attacked. This Bathilda Bagshot was no zombie; she was a snake. Voldemort's snake actually. When Al thought about it, he realized that the two puncture wounds Nagini had created on his father's arm were still imprinted there.
As the memory spiraled, signaling its end, Albus couldn't help but wonder how Harry had ever managed to get his wand fixed. The one broken in the memory was the exact one he currently had and it had seemed to be destroyed beyond repair. All of that aside, Al prepared for the next memory.
It was the Forest of Dean that he landed in. This place was as familiar to him as Godric's Hallow. Every winter his family, along with Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione and their kids, would pitch tents in the snowy forest and camp out for a week or two.
This was why. Albus instantly knew. Whatever was in this memory was the reason why the two families went camping in the winter in the middle of nowhere. Albus knew not one other family who went camping during that particular time of year. This was why.
The snow felt soft beneath his feet and he could see a small yellow tent was pitched a few meters off. A seventeen-year-old Harry Potter was sitting outside fingering what seemed to be Hermione's wand.
Aunt Hermione. Her soft sobs were heard from inside the tent and Uncle Ron was nowhere to be seen. He was gone. He had left them. This picture before Albus was all wrong. His strong aunt was crying, Harry had her wand, and Ron wasn't there. His forever-loyal Uncle Ron.
Al sat down in shock, once again trying to understand. What had happened? How long had his uncle been gone? Would he come back? Who knew how long it had been since the incident in Godric's Hallow. Who knew how long Ron had been gone now.
Snow crunched in the distance and Albus' head snapped up along with Harry's. A silvery doe stood before them. She was beautiful and warmed something inside of Al. She turned to leave and Harry followed, almost reluctantly. It was a patronus, something only made out of happy thoughts and feelings…it had to be good.
The doe took them to the edge of a small pool of water before fading away and Al almost sighed at its departure. Beneath the ice of the water glittered the ruby incrusted hilt of a sword. It was a sword Al had read about numerous times. The sword of Godric Gryffindor was lying in the bottom of a pool of water in the middle of nowhere. This was no coincidence.
Apparently Harry didn't think so either for he shed his many sweater then and there before jumping into the frigid water. Hanging on his chest was a large, egg shaped locket bearing a Slytherin looking 'S'. The shape of the locket reminded Al of something, but being unable to concentrate with his dad jumping into a hypothermia inducing pool, Albus tossed the thought momentarily aside.
He began to get worried when Harry didn't come back up. Something was happening under the water and Albus had no idea what. The water spun around the area, Harry was obviously thrashing.
Al jumped at the sight of someone jumping in after him, someone with shocking orange hair. The two came up gasping. Ron threw the sword to the bank and Harry heaved himself over and instantly ripped the locket off his neck.
That's when Albus realized why it looked so familiar for in the spot the locket had been was a dark imprint of the exact same shape. It was a scar Al had seen on his dad many a time while swimming. It wasn't gained from that particular experience, Al could tell, but it was most definitely from the locket.
It clicked in Albus' mind that the only thing the locket could be was a horcrux and the thing they needed to destroy it was right in front of them. The Sword of Gryffindor only took in that which made it stronger and if Al remembered correctly it was the very sword Harry had used to kill the Basilisk in his second year.
The things that came out of the locket once Harry opened it certainly scared Albus and wished more every second that Ron would just kill it like he was supposed to. A breath of air he didn't know he was holding in escaped once the horrible object finally got a mouthful of goblin made metal.
Albus laughed with relief and laughed even harder at how his Aunt Hermione acted when she saw Uncle Ron. They may have not gotten together until after the battle, but it was obvious that they were smitten with each other.
The memory ended and Al was pushed into a battle. It was Hogwarts, as he had never seen it before. The ancient stonewalls were crumbling and chaos ensued. After watching with awe the giant spiders crawling around the wreckage and many a wizard battling masked death eaters, Albus realized what this was. It was the infamous battle of Hogwarts.
This was where half of everyone his family knew had died. This was where Voldemort died too and Albus was standing there watching it all. He turned in a full circle realizing that his father must be close.
There he was running up the many stairs of the castle, dodging and firing the occasional hex. He traveled all the way to the seventh floor before stopping in front of a blank wall and walking in front of it three times.
The room that appeared was cluttered beyond imagine. It was as if everything ever lost had been sent there. Harry obviously knew what he was looking for though; he vaguely knew where it was too.
Albus watched as Draco Malfoy rushed into the seen manned by his two friends. This was the first time Al had seen Malfoy at this age. Several times during Diagon Alley trips with his mum and Aunt Hermione he had been pointed out, but seeming him so much younger put things into perspective.
Once the fiend fire was started, lives were saved by brooms, and the object Harry had been looking for was destroyed, Al felt like he could stop straining so hard to so everything. Another horcrux was dead and Ron and Hermione had destroyed yet another down in the Chamber of Secrets. Everything was going to slow down.
Albus was right. Voldemort's forces momentarily retreated and the dead were placed in the Great Hall. Never before had Al seen so many people in that state in one place. Never had he seen one person dead actually. The tears fell at the sight of his uncle he had never met and they fell harder when she spotted Remus Lupin lying beside his wife. Her hair was brown and lifeless. He almost expected it to turn pink, as all of his relatives had said it always was.
Then the memory faded and something flashed before his eyes, it was as fast as Harry's fourth, fifth, and sixth years had been. He saw the life of Lily Evans through Snape's memories and he discovered that his father must die. He was a horcrux. Somehow that didn't surprise Albus though. It almost clicked everything into place.
He was then thrown into the Forbidden Forest, Harry at his side. Surrounding them were four beings unlike anything Al had seen. They were there, but almost translucent in a way, pale and not quite there. It made sense though for the people around them were all passed.
In Harry's hand Albus saw a small ring. A ghost of an old story drifted into his head. The cloak, the ring, the wand; the three needed to master death. Whenever the story of the Three Brothers was told in the Potter household, it was almost spoken with a reverence that hinted that it was much more then an old wives tale. They were real.
Deciding not to pay attention to the conversation, Albus took a good look at those present. There were James and Lily, just like they had been in the pictures his dad had shown him. Remus was different though. He didn't look sick or shabby, he looked happy and that dark worried look that had seemed to always be in his eyes had disappeared. He looked happy.
Sirius was there too and Albus was happy to see him again. He couldn't help but admire the man greatly. There was just something about him that told Al that Sirius Black was a very good person.
Before he knew it the four had gone from his sight and Harry was facing Voldemort. Then he died. Albus did not see what had happened in Harry's mind when he had died for a thick blackness engulfed him for a long period of time. Today wasn't the day to see what had happened Al realized. It was obviously important, but he wasn't meant to see it just then.
The darkness lifted and he was back in the forest. Hagrid was carrying Harry and sobbing loudly. He was alive though, Harry. Al could tell by the way his eyes twitched as if he wished to open them and assure the large man that he was okay.
He watched the remainder of the memory with a thick tiredness surrounding him like a blanket. He saw Voldemort die and he saw Harry become the holder of the Elder Wand. Yes, he realized that Harry had, at one point, been the master of death.
Albus didn't realize he was crying until the salty tears dripped onto his arm. He expected that soon he would leave the pensieve and be thrown back into the present world and out of the memories. Now he understood though. He understood the numerous hardships of Harry Potter. His dad. His dad had been though everything imaginable and now Albus understood.
Without realizing, Albus Severus Potter was placed back in his parent's room. The sun had fallen, yet the room was lit up. Harry Potter had been sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his son.
The two looked at each other, trying to decide what the other would do next. That's when Al leapt at his father, engulfing him in a bone-crushing hug. Harry hugged back and let his own tears join his son's.
Guilt mingled with relief, causing Harry to pause and sort through the hurried thoughts in his head. His poor child had to see so many awful horrible things. Those horrible things would probably change his whole perspective on life and it was his fault. He had been far too careless as to where he hid the pensieve, especially when it came to Albus.
On the other hand, Harry felt as if this perspective would give his son an advantage over the rest of the wizarding world. They were all naïve and clueless to the horrors of their pasts. Only those who had actually been there would truly know how it was.
Not once did he think of punishing the child though. Harry felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, another thing that made him feel slightly guilty. If there was one person he had wanted to see his story, it was Albus. Finally someone understood.
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Ta-da! This is the end. I'm so very sorry for how long it took me to finish this. I feel awful. I've just devoted my time to "Life of Lily". In the space of the time I finished "Life of Lily" and wrote this, I took the time to edit the whole story and improved it greatly. My writing felt childish and hopefully I fixed it. This story has been a great ride and I hope you all enjoyed it!
-Sweets5236