I am soo sorry i didnt update earlier...O.o

Its the end of the school year...and, well you know how it is...

Any way, i'd like to thank you for all your reviews: 300!!!

I squealed in delight.

I don't own Harry Potter or Twilight...

Chapter 19

"Tell me something, Bella."

"What?" I asked

Harry and I were sitting out in front of the lake; it was late Sunday evening, right after dinner. Harry told me to meet him out here for something long forgotten that he wanted to discuss.

"What is it with Cullen that you hate so much?" He asked.

I sighed; I knew this would come back again. "Cullen…is not like you and me…he's …different." I said, unsure how to word it correctly.

He stared at me, eager to know what else.

I sighed again, "Edward is-" I started.

"What?" He interrupted.

I stared at him dumbfounded, "What?"

"You called him…Edward." He said.

Oh my God.

Oh no oh no oh no…

I felt myself get hot, "Uh…what?" I repeated, unsure of how I should respond to that.

"Bella, there's something you're not telling me. Why do you hate him? How do you know so much about him? And why did you call him by his first name? I mean…he's a professor. You never call McGonagall by her first name or Snape by his…" He ranted.

"Ok, ok!" I interrupted.

He took a deep breath, "Please, Bella, tell me what…"

"What, what?"

"What's going on!" he finished.

"I…" I started, but was interrupted.

"Bella, Bella!" A voice behind me yelled.

I turned around; it was Malfoy.

"What?" I frowned.

He put a fake-sympathetic expression on, "Does your arm hurt terribly, Bella?" He pouted.

Ugh I just wanna crush that little-

"But that's not what I'm here for." He continued, wiping the false sympathetic tone from his voice.

"I heard," He started, "that the Womping Willow is sick…and that they're going to cut it down…" He pouted again.

"What?" I stood up, "Who told you this?"

"Professor Snape." He bragged, "He tells me things…"

I rolled my eyes, "Are you playing tricks with me, Malfoy?"

"Hardly!" He frowned, "It's not playing tricks with you if you don't play along…" He sneered.

"That makes no sense." Harry said behind me.

"It makes perfect sense." Malfoy objected, "She asked me if I was playing tricks with her… and I'm not!" He started walking away.

"Wait!" I ran after him.

He turned around with a devious smile, "Yes?"

"Are you playing tricks on me?" I asked again.

"Would I do such a thing?" He said in mock-astonishment.

"Yes."

He raised his eyebrows, "You mustn't tell lies, Bella."

I raised my wand to his neck, fighting back a growl.

"Ok, ok!" He raised his arms in defeat, "But seriously, there is something you need to see by the Womping Willow."

I sighed and Harry and I both decided to follow him. We kept our wands out, just in case, and set off for the Womping Willow.

Oh my God…

Wow they are sooo cool.

"Hey, what do you guys think you're doing?" I screamed.

There was a group of about four or five third years by the looks of it. They didn't look at me; they probably didn't even hear me.

"They're racing to see who can get closest to the tree!" Malfoy complained.

"I'll go get Dumbledore." I sighed.

Harry and Malfoy both looked at me horror-struck.

"What?" I asked.

"You're…getting a teacher?" Harry asked, disbelieved.

"You're not going to act stupidly from your head?" Malfoy, too, sounded disbelieved.

"Hey!" I said hotly, "I don't act stupidly from my head…"

"Right," Malfoy scoffed, "and I'm not good looking."

"You're not…" I agreed.

He scowled at me, "Whatever."

"Aren't you a prefect?" I asked, "Shouldn't you handle this?"

"They wouldn't listen to me!" Malfoy complained.

"So…you came to Bella." Harry stated, like it was the next-to-stupidest thing he could have thought of.

"You guys are both mean." I accused, walking away.

"Where are you going?" Harry and Malfoy both asked.

"To Dumbledore…or McGonagall…whoever I see first." I answered.

"I still can't believe this…" Harry muttered, walking behind me.

"Wait," I said, turning around, "You guys stay here… just in case they run away."

Malfoy's eyes brightened up, "Yeah, what's the fun of ratting people out if they just run away?"

I rolled my eyes and ran off to the castle.

Once I reached Dumbledore's office, said the password, and climbed up the stairs…I knocked on the door.

There wasn't an answer, but the door creaked slightly.

I took a deep breath and opened the door just a little more. I frowned and walked in.

The pensieve was out. Why…?

I looked in the pensieve…What the…

It was showing a memory of me.

It was my memory of when I battled with the Basilisk. But…why did Dumbledore have it?

I had only ever given Dumbledore one memory of me…the memory of the graveyard. He wanted to see who all the Death Eaters were. So I lent him the memory.

I know for a fact that this particular memory was mine, though. There was no way it was Harry's or even Ron's…and even if it was, why would they give it to Dumbledore?

Unless…I gave it to Dumbledore.

But, no way… I quickly shook that concept from my mind. He had never even asked for this memory!

But…I thought about it for a minute.

Flashback

"Bella?" Dumbledore started.

We were in his office. It was after Quidditch practice; I was here for another lesson.

"Yes, Professor?" I responded.

"I was wondering…if maybe…you could possibly lend me one of your memories?" He asked.

"My memories?" I repeated.

"Yes…" He said.

"Uh…" I stuttered, "Sure…I guess. But…why exactly do you need it, sir?"

"Well, I was speculating on whether you would allow me to relive that day of yours in the graveyard."

I shuddered.

He continued, "I just would like to acknowledge all of the Death Eaters. I'm sure there were some that had not shown up at the Ministry incident…I would just like to see…" He pondered; his blue twinkling eyes were gazing into Fawkes'.

I considered it. How bad would lending him a memory be?

So I agreed.

End of Flashback

He had only asked for one memory. One specific memory. Why did he have this one?

I remembered again; it had taken such a long time for him to take that one memory.

I remembered asking him why it had taken such a long time.

He said it was because he was doing it…and it took a while for him to find the right memory.

Could it have possibly been because he was taking more than one memory?

But…I trusted Dumbledore. I doubted that he would do such a thing.

And…why would he even want that memory? What significance did it hold?

And now I had forgotten why I was even here…

Oh yea…I sighed; I needed to tell Dumbledore about the trouble makers.

I walked over to the window behind the desk. You could see the top of the Womping Willow just barely from where I was standing. But you could also see the Quidditch Pitch from here. I absent-mindedly felt over my cast. It didn't hurt as much as it did yesterday.

I started thinking… Why would Dumbledore even want other memories? My memories… Did he have more than just a few? Did he have my entire life of memories? Is that even possible? Wouldn't they have to be things that I remembered? You know…it's a memory. Something that I remember.

But…there are a lot of things that I remember.

I sighed. How would I bring this up? Or…should I even bring this up? This made me feel so…confused!

"That was…interesting…" A voice behind me said.

I turned around abruptly.

"Oh no…" She said.

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